


Glacius (Because This Is A Christmas Special)

by ReverseHipster (jaguaria)



Series: Wingardium Leviosa and Other Stories [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Smut, Christmas Special, Cute Kids, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, yet another erotic birth because Roman Gray
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:15:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaguaria/pseuds/ReverseHipster
Summary: It's mid-December of 1995. Hermione, Pennywise, and their children are preparing for Christmas Eve and partaking in all the usual holiday traditions during the days leading up to the big day that also happens to be their children's birthdays. However, after all the preparation and withstanding Christmas Cheer, will it all still be as wholesome as they thought?A short-lived Christmas Special leading up to the holiday itself.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pennywise (IT)
Series: Wingardium Leviosa and Other Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1156871
Comments: 32
Kudos: 29





	1. The Gray Kids On Holiday Break

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I was really motivated to write a Christmas special depicting my favorite odd-couple. So, here I am! This will be a short story that I'll be adding to in the coming days. I have some more things written already, but if you all have any of the usual Christmas traditions you want to see happen, feel free to let me know.  
> Also, there is a new addition to the family if you haven't read the most recent contribution to Imperio. Now, in addition to their four children and Tom Riddle, Hermione also had a little boy named Romulus, or Roman, with Pennywise's wolf-biker form. The one-shot details how he was conceived, but this is his first actual appearance. In this fic, their first clutch is just about to turn six, and Roman has just turned three.  
> Thanks to those of you who even still bother to read my odd ramblings of depraved smut and tooth-rotting fluff.

**December 15th, 1995**

Hugo William Gray had always been an independent child. He hardly cried, never clinging to his mother’s healer robes when she had to leave for work like Rose, Tom, and Robert often did. Penelope only didn’t because she could always feel their mother’s presence no matter how far away she was. A part of him wanted to feel her like she did, too.

She was always to soft and loving, comforting in a way that the five-year-old couldn’t fully explain, but when he was enveloped in her motherly embrace with his father’s tougher frame and strong arms encasing them both, he felt that there was no place safer.

His father understood him in that regard, often pulling him aside and doing something with him that would make his mother happy, like organizing all the books in their little library corner of the house. Hugo liked organizing and his father could reach the taller shelves, lifting him up on his shoulders and helping him dust off the lesser-read tomes.

Now, as he hopped off the bright yellow bus after his last day of school for the year, he ran up the driveway, closely flanked by his four other siblings. Meanwhile, Pennywise had sensed them once they’d come down the street hidden through the dense trees enveloping their yard. Picking up a confused three-year-old Roman by the straps of his snow pants, he walked over to the front door, swinging the little werewolf pup back and forth to make him giggle. As the tall clown opened the door, he began baiting his son who was slowly beginning to wag his fluffy little tail at the proximity of the front entrance. 

“Who’s here, Roman?” the pup’s amber eyes dilated, his ears perking and shifting to identify who might be on the other side of the door, “Who is that?” a high-pitched whimper escaped his little mouth, his wet black nose pinching in concentration. Roman sniffed, wiggling in his father’s grasp as he became more antsy. When the tell-tale rapid footsteps of his older siblings could be heard coming up the driveway, his eyes lit up and he gasped eagerly with his legs swinging back and forth underneath him in a running motion despite not being anywhere near the ground.

“You wanna go get ‘em, pup? Alright, go get ‘em!” Pennywise chuckled, opening the door fully and setting his youngest son down on the doormat which immediately smacked him in the shins from the momentum of Roman’s speed as he rocketed off their front porch on all fours, skipping the steps and landing in one of the tall snow banks Hermione had shoveled the previous evening.

Pennywise laughed at the visual, watching as the wolf-hybrid popped his head up out of the snow and shook his auburn-tufted head to get most of it out of his hair. Roman squealed at his father before launching himself out of the snow pile and making a mad dash for the five siblings who’d already noticed him coming.

While being just under three-feet tall, Roman was still stronger than most three-year olds, especially when he was partially-shifted into his wolf form. Pennywise often had to teach him to control his strength as he sometimes had to with Robert. However, he knew his youngest would never hurt his family no matter how overexcited he got.

“Hi, Roman,” Rose giggled as her younger brother nearly barreled her over in his haste to give her a hug, “What did you do today?”

“I made snowman!” the boy announced proudly, shifting back into his more human form with the exception of his wolfish ears, tail, and nose, “Daddy helped,” the boy added, wagging his tail as he went to hug Hugo, sniffing subtly at his clothes, “Why do you smell like a cookie?” Roman pouted, sad that he was left out of having sweets.

Robert grinned, “Our teacher made gingerbread for us for Christmas.”

At his side, Tom nodded solemnly, “Yeah, we also got to drink hot cocoa and watch a movie instead of doing homework. I wish we had reading time instead,” he frowned, patting his bag where his new book sat underneath all the papers their teacher had handed back. Roman tilted his head in confusion, and they all giggled as one of his ears flopped over.

Penelope took his hand and began to lead him back up the driveway to where their father was waiting, She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a mostly broken cookie from the inside of a brown bag, “Here,” she offered her younger brother and giggled as his tail began wagging again, “You can have mine.”

Little padded fingers grasped the broken pieces, shoveling them into his maw only for them to be broken down by sharp little canines. The large pieces were gone in seconds, leaving only the little crumbs on his hands behind as evidence. Roman’s small wet tongue lapped at his digits, chasing the sweet flavor happily as he was led up the stairs behind his older siblings.

“Now what do we say to your sister, Romulus?”

“T’anks, Penny,” the boy grinned, squealing as Pennywise picked him up by his snow pants straps once more.

“C’mon, pup. Your feet are all wet now and we’ve gotta dry ‘em off. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, would we?” Pennywise teased, meaning the phrase as one of endearment rather than an actual warning. 

It was very rare for any of his young to get sick, much less from the weather. Often times, their afflictions involved food. Roman couldn’t eat chocolate without having a bad stomach ache that had him laying with he or Hermione for hours. Another time, their young had eaten undercooked chicken at a friend’s birthday party and had thrown up well into the next day. It was safe to say that Pennywise had scared the everloving shit out of those responsible for poisoning his little bugs, but Hermione had unfortunately made sure that they’d walked away unscathed. Still, the pitiful child had apparently moved to a new pre-school very soon afterwards.

The clown lifted his son and nestled him backwards between his shoulder and hip as he sat down in the living room, taking the discarded towel used for such occurrences and drying Roman’s paw-like feet. Meanwhile, the pup giggled, wriggling at the ticklish movements of the towel in between the pads of his toes.

“Daddy, no!” he squealed as Pennywise abandoned the towel altogether and attacked his little feet with practiced rubs.

“Daddy, yes!” Pennywise mocked, a buck-toothed grin overtaking his features, “You better call for help before your brother and sisters go to their rooms...”

“Help me!” Roman howled, trying to scratch at Pennywise with his dull little claws.

Robert laughed, launching himself at his father, “I’ll save you!”

Pennywise cackled darkly, catching his eldritch son and holding him in his other arm, “I’ve gotcha now, Junior!”

“No!” Robert grinned and watched as Rose threw her bag down and ran at the three males, intending to land on her father’s chest.

Pennywise immediately let the two boys plop down on the couch and caught Rose in mid-air, protectively cradling her to his chest as though she were still an infant, “You’re in big, big trouble now, little one,” he began to tighten his hold and Rose squealed, punching and kicking the air as much as che could.

“Daddy, stop! You’re crushing me!” Pennywise immediately let her go, sagging lazily into the couch and listening as all six of his young climbed up the stairs to their own rooms. After eavesdropping on their muffled conversations for a few minutes, he closed his eyes, falling into a slight doze until he heard a quiet padding on the carpeted stairs.

Cracking one cobalt eye open, he noticed that Roman had shifted into his puppy form and was coming down to be near him, wanting to take a nap judging from his long yawns as he came closer. Gingerly, he picked up the small pup and placed him on his chest, allowing his son to feel his purrs from their source.

Soon after the eldritch began to purr, the boy’s smaller amber orbs began to droop closed. Pennywise pet his fur slowly, massaging his nape and carding through the hairs of his soft underbelly. He began to emit little snores, his compact body rising and falling with each breath. Pennywise kissed his head, lapping gently at the thicker auburn tufts that were a mix of his wolf form’s red hair and Hermione’s brown curls. Both thought it was a beautiful mix.

About an hour later, Hermione arrived home from work and took a photo of them both sleeping on the couch, tucking the snapshot away to add to her ever-growing collection of soft moments between her mate and their children.


	2. Ice Skating with the Grays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here's another one. Ice skating was never a big tradition in my family, but thinking back to Wingardium Leviosa, I remembered the chapter where Hermione took Pennywise/Bill skating. So, I decided to play a bit with that, here.

**December 16th, 1995**

Romulus John Gray cried like a puppy. Hermione thought it was adorable as much as she thought it was heartbreaking. His little body would twitch in his sleep as though he were trying to run but couldn’t complete the movements necessary to get anywhere. High pitched whimpers and yelps would escape his throat whether he was sleeping or awake and he often had to be petted in order to calm down. At the same time, he was a strong boy, always wanting to prove himself to his older siblings.

“C’mere, sweetie,” Hermione cooed at her youngest son, taking his hands and holding him up so he didn’t fall face-first onto the ice rink again, “Let Mummy help you.”

“‘Want to do it, Mummy…” Roman whined at the lack of control, kicking his feet along as Hermione skated them over to where Tom was skating circles around Robert, laughing at his intended’s nervousness. The tall half-eldritch had his toes facing inwards and was trying not to fall over, standing stiffly and moving robotically. His eyes flashed amber with his annoyance and envy at Tom’s ease and natural talent for ice-skating.

“It’s not nice to laugh at your brother, Tom,” Hermione chided and Tom blushed sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, moving to skate around his adopted mother and brother instead. Roman tried to follow his movement, only making himself dizzy in the process.

“Sorry,” Roman parroted dazedly, shaking his head like a dog.

“Mum, can you help me?” Robert whined, cutting himself off with a small yelp as he nearly lost balance when one of his feet suddenly slid forward.

Hermione smiled, setting Roman down on the patch of ice next to her, letting him entertain himself with the snow and skate track-marks on the deserted outdoor ice rink, “Of course, Robbie. Here… you just keep your legs apart and toes facing forward… Your father often has the same problem… There, like that! Good, and to move, you just dig into the ice with the flat of the blade and push off— Don’t run over your brother!” she screeched, snatching Roman from Robert’s accidental path. Tom gasped, flipping his homemade scarf over his shoulder and trailing after him to make sure he stayed out of trouble. 

Hermione sighed, setting a whimpering Roman back down on his two skate-clad feet, assisting him in getting over to Rose and Hugo who were also good skaters. They were playing tag on the opposite side of the rink, dodging and racing against each other like they’d never play the game again. 

Glancing back over to her other two boys, she noticed that Tom had taken Robert’s hands to guide him around a corner, the both of them giggling at some joke the raven-haired boy had likely said to cheer the other up. Hermione smiled, turning to her other daughter and noticing that she was standing off to the side of the rink, standing stiffly in her skates and looking cryptically off into the middle-distance as though her eyes were somewhere else entirely. 

“Penny?” Hermione hoised Roman onto her hip and glided over to her daughter, “Penelope?”

The girl’s eyes cleared and she looked widely at her surroundings before facing her mother and jumping at their proximity, biting her lip nervously, “Someone is coming.”

Hermione bulked, now both more confused and more nervous than before. She tightened her grip on Roman who immediately whined at the compression, “Who? Who’s coming?”

Penelope simply shrugged, her red tufted hair shifting under her stocking cap, “I don’t know them. I can’t read their thoughts from so far away.”

Hermione frowned, setting Roman on the ice and feeling him clutch at her snow pant’s leg, “Do they seem nice?” she took her daughter’s gloved hands.

Penny hummed as she considered the two beings she felt coming closer, “They are… curious… They want to meet us.”

The witch tilted her head, trying to think of who would be looking for them. She hadn’t seen Victor Krum in years, but she wasn’t sure why he’d seek her out now, especially without telling her. As far as she knew, he was happily married and living in Bulgaria.

Roman tugged on her pant leg, his little face scrunching up as he opened his mouth. Her eyes widened in panic. She knew  _ that _ face very well, “Mum, have to pee…”

“I know, sweetie!” she yelped, picking Roman up again and making eye-contact with a bundled up Bill Gray across the rink. He nodded at her quickly and she disapparated to their home, taking her son to the first-floor bathroom and setting him on the toilet after vanishing his pants and boxers, “Do you want me to stay?”

“No, Mummy. Am a big boy,” Roman promised, sitting a little higher despite being a bit too small for the seat.

Hermione giggled at him, watching her son kick his little padded feet, “Okay, just remember to keep your tail up. Otherwise I’ll have to clean it.”

Roman pouted as she shut the door nearly all the way and went to dry off her son’s wet snow pants. After a quick swish of her wand, she could hear his quiet humming as he relieved himself, followed soon after by him yelling that he was done. 

Hermione giggled, entering the room and helping her son wipe himself, “How’s your tail?”

Roman whined, tucking the furry appendage away from her sight, “Romulus John Gray...” she warned, using his full name which often did the trick of guilt-tripping him into admitting to what he’d done.

“Sorry, Mummy…” he revealed his little auburn tail, showing his mother the wet tip that had fallen into the tainted water.

“It’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean to,” she cooed at him, picking him up and setting his bum in the sink.

She turned the tap on and rinsed the wet piece a bit more before grabbing a dollop of shampoo and rubbing it into the tip. After rinsing the soap out, she grabbed a dry cloth and set to scrubbing the water out of his fur. Meanwhile, Roman’s toes curled, his entire body crunching into hers as the sensation made him feel tingly.

“Alright, all done!” Hermione grinned, setting him down on the tiled floor of the bathroom, turning the faucet and lights off as he waddled out pantsless, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Roman giggled at her, taking off in a four-legged sprint as he fully shifted into his wolf form. He ran circles around her and she laughed, grabbing a blanket and unfurling it. The pup barely seemed to notice, still darting around the living room and waiting for his mother to chase him. Instead, Hermione dropped the blanket on him as he ran past, causing him to trip and roll into the cotton material. 

She picked up the squirming bundle and cradled it to her chest, waiting until Roman popped his head out of the blanket to dress him back up in his bottoms and snowpants, “Got you, sweetie. Now then, let’s get you dressed…”

Roman wiggled happily, licking at his mother’s chin and batting at her with his little paws. Then, he shifted back into his human form, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head contentedly onto her chest. Hermione scratched behind his triangular ears and he moaned in a lower pitch, expressing his comfort and happiness in her arms, “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading back through this one, I noticed that there wasn't much in terms of content aside from establishing Roman and Hermione's parent-child relationship and showing how Robert inherited his father's poor skating abilities. The next chapter will have smut and feels between Hermione and Pennywise, so watch for that. :D


	3. Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I've got a longer chapter today. This one has some angst at the beginning, but quickly dissolves into a smutfest centered around one of the few Christmas songs that I hate listening to with other people because it is just so sexually charged. I did a song-fic scene in WL with the Bee Gees' "More Than A Woman," so I now give you "Baby, It's Cold Outside." Those of you waiting for Pennmione Christmas-y smut should like this one. ;D

**December 17th, 1995**

“Penn! Do you need help?” Hermione yelled up to her mate who was currently balancing on a really tall ladder with one boot-clad foot on the ladder itself and another on the icy roof, just as a snowstorm was beginning to roll in.

“No!” Pennywise shouted down to her and Penelope got up from her spot at the kitchen table to stand out on the front lawn with her mother.

“Dad wants help,” she tilted her head confusedly at her mother, half-watching her father struggle to keep himself from falling off the roof, “Why would he lie?”

Hermione laughed, shaking her head, “That tosser…” she muttered, raising her voice, “Do you even have the lights up there with you?”

A moment passed, “...No,” he answered, “but I do now!”

Penelope nodded, looking to her mother, “Why is he up there? Can’t he put the lights on the house from the ground using magic?

Hermione smiled and nodded, “I think Daddy wants to prove something to himself.”

“I do not!” Pennywise screeched at her.

“No, you’re right… You want to prove something to _me._ ”

The clown growled, visibly rumbling from where Hermione and Penelope were watching. A few large icicles cracked and fell off the third floor’s roof, landing at their feet and prompting the witch to usher her youngest daughter inside. Then, the witch mounted the ladder, holding it steady to the house as she climbed each rickedy step. The cold wind bit at her neck and face more roughly with each foot upwards.

She didn’t dare look down, afraid of how she’d react upon seeing how far she was from the ground. A tight whiteness consumed her frigid knuckles as she gripped the two metal ends of the ladder tighter and tighter. Snow fell into and onto every exposed piece of skin, leaving a chilled blushes in its wake. Her teeth chattered and her nervous sweat began to cool on her nape, but it was by sheer force of will that she continued her climb, intending to see what had possessed her mate to make him behave so ridiculously.

By the time Hermione reached her mate, he’d finally gotten the string lights to decorate the third roof. She crawled onto the second-story roof, trekking across it to reach Pennywise, who was sitting with his feet dangling off the edge, the rest of the lights at his side and slowly being consumed by the rapidly-falling snow. 

The witch sat beside him, leaning into his warmth and looking out at the wide expanse of the ocean beginning to freeze in a few spots. Her fingers curled into his dark winter jacket and the wool sweater underneath, making sure he felt her under each layer.

Her breath turned to mist as she spoke, “Why didn’t you tell me you needed help?”

Pennywise shrugged, not looking at her, “Just because I needed help, didn’t mean that I wanted you to come up here. You’re afraid of heights and I didn’t want to make you suffer that…”

Hermione snorted, “I’m up here, aren’t I? What happened to the eldritch that convinced me to climb into a ferris wheel only to weedle me into sucking me dry and giving me an orgasm to distract me?”

Pennywise smiled slightly at the memory, wrapping his arm around her and squeezing her thigh with promise, “Are you propositioning me, Mrs. Gray?” he crooned in her ear, tugging her onto his lap, “It’s a little snowy out here, if you hadn’t noticed, but if you insist, doll… I’ll keep you nice and warm…”

Hermione chuckled, scratching at his sensitive nape as her mate began to nibble on her mating bite, “You’re avoiding the subject, _dear_.”

Pennywise sighed in both disappointment and lust, “No chance that you’ll let this go?”

Hermione popped her ‘p’ in a serious tone, “Nope. The children could easily see us from the boys’ room, I want to finish hanging these lights, and I also want to know what is making my mate feel bad about himself,” she crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders to protect her neck, “So, spill it.”

Pennywise whined lowly and sighed with a finality, curling himself over Hermione and pulling away from the edge of the roof, “When I was at the store this morning, picking up some food and decorations for next week, you know the plums and the peppermint bark the girls like… I had to get tinsel and popcorn for the tree—” Hermione squeezed his arms.

“I do, Penn, but please go on,” she kissed his hand where it was near her.

“I was walking down one of the aisles and I had our young with me. We were getting ready to pay but there was one more thing to grab so I sent Hugo to grab it. As we waited, I overheard the clerk and another human male talking. They thought I couldn’t hear them or their thoughts, but _oh_ were they _wrong_ ,” he hissed, tightening his hold on Hermione.

The witch simmered, likely knowing where her mate was going with his story, “What did they say?”

Pennywise shook his head, “The clerk recognized Bill Gray, spouting some shit about you emasculating me, making me stay home with our young while you are out doing a man’s job, and likely ‘getting fucked by a real man’… They then called me a ‘lucky bastard’ for ‘spreading your legs’ and getting you to ‘pop out a small army’... Then, well… they went into something about Robert, Penelope, and Tom not being mine but rather someone else’s young...”

Hermione frowned, “How terribly rude! Surely you don’t think that, right? I thought you wanted to be home with our children… and you can’t possibly believe that shit about our relationship and our children’s legitimacy?”

Pennywise leaned back to look her in the eyes, “Yes! I mean, no… I wouldn’t trade what we have now for anything. There is nothing like watching them grow, teaching them, spending time with them… and I can smell my blood in their veins, not Tom’s of course, but I know they’re mine. You, on the other hand, can’t so much as kiss another before I immediately know about it,” he kissed her nose gently and growled, still simmering, “But _oh_ , doll… If our young weren’t with me, I would have torn them limb from limb until they saw just how _manly_ I was…”

“So instead, you tried to hang up Christmas lights during a blizzard without any magical help?”

Pennywise flushed slightly, “I had thought that if I could do something most men have to do, then I could prove that I haven’t gotten soft…”

Hermione giggled, nipping at his neck, “You daft eldritch… You aren’t a man, not by a long shot. That’s a part of why I love you. You are so beautiful to me, and I’ve seen you cause a _lot_ of damage. You protect our family by keeping it close. How much do you think those arseholes could protect their own families like you do? You’ve only gotten soft where we needed you to… After all, the child-eating killer clown from Derry couldn’t raise our young,” she kissed him slowly, “Or convince me to bear five of them.”

Pennywise smiled fully now, returning the kiss and flicking his hand at the pile of nearly-forgotten Christmas lights. Hermione felt her magic shift around her and smiled into their kiss, knowing that he’d finished hanging the lights. The eldritch broke the kiss, noticing how cold his mate was becoming. He pulled a snaggle-toothed smirk that often had Hermione swooning, leaning down to whisper lowly in her ear, “Could I tempt you in bearing another?”

“Nice try, love,” Hermione rasped breathlessly, finishing her statement in a sing-song voice, “but _I really can’t say…_ ”

Her mate chuckled, teleporting them into their bedroom and throwing her onto the thick red duvet, “But, baby, it’s cold outside,” he replied in the same tone, gently pulling off one of her snow boots, “I love it when you get like this…” Pennywise purred, running his free hand up her thigh.

“I’ve got to go away,” she looked away from him and towards the door that was slightly ajar, but he was focused on removing her other boot.

“But, baby, it's cold outside…” he smirked, pinching her toes through her fuzzy socks.

Hermione pointedly pushed him with her other foot and indicated to the open door, “This evening has been…” she continued, leaning up on her elbows as he moved to prevent any little eyes from seeing something they shouldn’t.

Pennywise closed the door with a quiet irrefutability, warding it shut as he strode back to her, “Been hoping that you’d drop in…”

“So very nice…” Hermione spread her thighs and he slotted his hips in between them, grabbing her hands as he stood in front of her so he could pull her to rest her nethers under his.

“I’ll hold your hands they're just like ice,” he stated a bit more than sung, partially scolding her for not wearing gloves while sitting with him outside.

“Our daughters will start to worry,” she reminded him, knowing that they were both leaving their young unsupervised and alone in the kitchen making ornaments for the tree that they still had to get. He huffed, mentally checking on their children and seeing that three of them had passed out on the couches and the other three were decorating peacefully.

“Beautiful, what's your hurry?” the eldritch crooned, leaning down to nibble her neck once more.

“Our four sons will be pacing the floor,” she joked, and he shook his head, palming her breast through her Christmas sweater that had red balloons on it.

“Just listen to my deadlights roar,” he purred loudly for her and it was so powerful that her eyes were forced closed and she bucked against the spot where they were connected, wanting to feel more of him as a giant vibrator. She moaned her appreciation, tugging at her leggings that now had a little wet spot on the crotch.

“So really I'd better scurry…” she whined as he halted her eager hands, forcing them up into the bed next to her riotous curls and taking their place to slowly remove her bottoms.

“Beautiful, please don’t hurry…” he chided her, tugging one pant leg off of her once they were both past her knees.

“Well, maybe just half a kiss more?” Hermione winced, not knowing how else to change the lyrics to fit their situation. Pennywise’s chest shook with his contained laughter and she swatted him, only to be met with intense half-lidded amber eyes as her mate closed the curtains around their bed, trapping them in near darkness with the exception of a sliver of light catching his nearly demonic grin.

“Oh, I can’t wait to make you sore,” he growled and Hermione gasped, reaching for his arms but he halted them once more, placing them back where they were and squeezing them until she realized that he was serious about her keeping them away from her nethers.

“The children might think…” she whined quietly.

“Baby it’s _bad_ out there,” he chuckled, tugging at her panties until they ripped in two, discarded near the end of the bed.

“Do you ever blink?” Hermione half-teased quietly, his intense eye-contact getting to her as he simply stared, not moving until she said her next line.

“More young to be had out there…” he reminded her of his previous request, lifting her top up to rub her flat belly. Hermione’s mind fogged at the ministrations, barely noticing that he finally took her socks off.

“I wish I knew how…” she moaned when his fingers began plucking at her clit.

“Your eyes are like starlight now,” Pennywise breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and giving her a slow passionate kiss.

“To break this spell,” she could feel herself leaking and her mate’s hands dug into her curls, untangling them from the winter wind’s styling. The only thing stopping him was her own stocking cap, which he humorously huffed at and threw aside.

“I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell,” Pennywise grinned, rapidly freeing himself from his pants and outer layers. He stared down at her, only in his boxers.

“I ought to say no, no, no, sir,” Hermione cooed, trailing a finger up her mate’s entrancing vertically-toothed fissure as he leaned in to her touches.

“Mind if I move in closer?” he rumbled eagerly, vanishing his boxers and positioning himself at her entrance.

“At least I'm gonna say that I tried…” Hermione sighed, taking off her stifling wool sweater and undershirt.

“What’s the sense of hurting my pride?” Pennywise hummed, unclipping her bra and throwing it where he threw her hat.

“I really can’t stay,” Hermione rolled her hips, nonverbally urging her mate to just take her already. Instead, he flipped her over and positioned her on her hands and knees.

“Baby, don’t hold doubt,” he teased, taking his lumpy knotted cock in hand and slowly pushing into his mate’s welcoming snatch.

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” he grunted and she moaned in unison as he bottomed out inside her, resting his swollen balls on her bum. Pennywise began to thrust, purring at the view of his mate’s shapely backside.

“I simply must go,” Hermione whined and the eldritch shushed her, squeezing her lolling breasts and rubbing more at her belly.

“Baby, it's cold outside,” her mate crooned, nipping at her mating bite and feeling for his cock through her belly as it nearly breached her cervix.

“The answer is no,” she whined pointedly, swatting at his hands until they finally left her abdomen alone.

“Baby, it's cold outside,” he flipped her over onto her back and leaned over her to get at her pebbled nipples.

“The welcome has been…” she sighed, looking down at his eager mouth and tongue and catching the slightest glimpse of the spot where they were connected. 

“Oh, little doll, you’re so thin…” Pennywise squeezed her hips, sucking harshly between lines and continuing his lazy torturous thrusting.

“So _nice_ and warm,” she bit off sarcastically, knowing he didn’t mean that he wanted her fat or was berating her for not being pregnant but rather that he missed her pregnancy belly.

Pennywise chuckled at her, opening the curtains of their bed and the window, showing off the cascading white snow falling down from the sky in blankets, “Look out the window at the storm.”

“Our Rosie will be suspicious…” she reminded him but he ignored her as he moved up her body to suck on her ear lobe rather than speed up his thrusting.

“Gosh your lips look delicious…” he growled, nuzzling their noses together.

“Our Robbie will be there at the door,” he had to chuckle at that quip, knowing full well about his middle son’s tendency to interrupt them while they are in the middle of some quality “Mummy and Daddy Time.”

“Waves upon a tropical shore,” he crooned tracing her lips with his fingers.

“Penelope's mind is vicious,” she added, not so subtly asking if their youngest daughter was paying them any attention. After a second, he shook his head and kissed her, sucking on her lower lip before delving his tongue between her teeth and exploring her mouth.

“Gosh your lips are delicious,” Pennywise moaned when they finally parted a moment later. Hermione smiled shyly, hooking her leg over his hip and delighting in his quicker-paced thrusting.

She could feel herself growing closer to her climax as she began matching him with each thrust. Hermione bit her lip, feeling herself begin to let go and spew another altered line out before really considering what she was saying, “Oh!~ Maybe just another pup more…”

Pennywise huffed eagerly, quickly speeding up his thrusts to the mere idea that his mate actually wanted him to breed her again despite her multiple refusals and protests to having more children at the time when all six of their current children were still very young, “I could breed you just like before,” he prompted, allowing his wolf-form to take over for a moment, reminding her of how their youngest was conceived and how easy he was for her to bear as a single pup for a total of three months.

“We can’t let them roam,” she instead reminded him of their current brood, becoming more at ease as the Wolf was locked back up.

“But, baby, you'd freeze out there,” he gestured to her lack of clothing with a sharp thrust and Hermione shakily reached for his winter coat, wanting to provoke him so she could finally climax.

“Say lend me your coat,” Hermione yelped as he smacked her arse for her sass, only to be met with a small spray of femenine juices and a twitching mate who cried out loudly and arched her back so their chests bumped. 

Pennywise caught her before she fell back to the soiled duvet beneath them, cradling her upper half to his chest and letting her breathe him in. Meanwhile, his fingers chased her slick where it had begun to drip quickly down her thighs

“It's down to your knees right here,” he purred, catching the clear trails with his long digits and sticking them into his mouth. The sounds of his slurping and sucking were enough to wind her up once more, her channel constricting around his swollen cock. Meanwhile, his tentacles reciprocated, wrapping around her thighs and squeezing tightly.

“You've really been grand,” Hermione moaned, reaching for her clit while her mate seemed to be enamoured with his fingers. He immediately growled his disagreement, grabbing her hand and speeding up his thrusts to get her back to her previous level of pleasure before she climaxed.

“I thrill when you touch my hand,” he lightly kissed each tip, immediately sucking her thumb into his mouth afterwards, 

Hermione gasped, cutting herself off with another loud moan, “But don't you see?”

Pennywise purred at her flavor, trailing a free hand down her spine and feeling it bend towards him just as her warm wet hole submitted to his beastly alien member, “How can you do this thing to me?”

“I’ll consider it, tomorrow,” she teased him, plucking at his sensitive ears to make him groan her name.

“Think of my lifelong sorrow…” Pennywise whined at her, lowering his head to her neck and preparing to sink his teeth into it. Both could feel their completions coming ever closer, their thrusts getting shorter and closer together. His knot was swelling fully now, preparing to lock inside her channel.

“I can’t believe that’s what you’ve implied…” Hermione rolled her eyes at her mate’s dramatics and he growled at her comment, sinking his teeth into her mark and making her yell.

“Don’t act like your urges have died,” he scolded her, bucking furiously at her g-spot in between their hissed exchanges. 

“I _really_ can’t stay,” the witch mewled, wrapping her arms around her mate and thrusting once, twice into her mate’s pelvis.

“Get over that old doubt,” he hissed, hitting her inner bundle with the head of his cock and feeling just the right amount of moist tightness around him that he growled her name and thrust home one last time.

Hermione couldn’t speak as his final thrust pushed her over the edge, making her limbs spasm and her skeleton turn to jello. Pennywise made a noise between a snarl and a howl, pressing her ever closer to him and lazily thrusting his knot within her encompassing hole. His seed spurted inside her from his churing and shifting bollocks, splashing against the entrance to her cervix hard enough to make her whine at him. Meanwhile, he purred contentedly, rolling them so she laid atop his chest with her face near his. The eldritch kissed her softly, her bright whisky eyes closed in exhaustion.

“Baby, it’s cold,” he rasped happily, rubbing her slightly distended stomach and wishing that she’d conceive again despite how unlikely it was that she would.

“Baby, it's cold outside…” Hermione whined lowly at him, curling into him further and reaching for her wand to get rid of the excess inky ejaculate in her womb. She knew it wouldn’t take. After all, she was nowhere near her heat and it would just leak out of her anyway, staining whatever surface she sat on until it was completely gone.

After setting her wand aside, Pennywise grumbled his displeasure, cuddling her closer and feeling the distinct lack of his seed surrounding his pulsating cock, “I hate it when you do that…”

Hermione huffed at his childish behavior, reaching into her bedside drawer and grabbing out the single unwrapped yet clean condom she possessed, “Well, if you don’t want me to vanish it, then we could use this…”

Upon seeing the clear rubber he hissed and spat at it, remembering the one time she got one onto him and he’d immediately hated their lack of contact, ripping it to shreds, “Never again…”

Hermione smiled a bit at his odd hatred of condoms, throwing the offending rubber back into her drawer and rubbing her agitated mate behind his ears. She wondered if it was also partially because it looked like a deflated balloon, “That’s what I thought, love…” she cooed, making him purr and knead her hips as though he were a cat. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out of her gaping hole, magically dressing them back in their comfortable pants and woolen sweaters, “Come now, dove,” he purred and kissed her bruised neck as he stood up and cradled his tired mate to his broad chest, “Let’s go see what our little bugs have created…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there it is! I hope to have more for you to read very soon. Sorry if it's not the best, but I want to write more before Christmas is over. :D


	4. Milk, Cookies, and Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, now that Christmas is over, and with the fact that I haven't been getting many views, kudos, etc. from this fic, I have decided to put finishing this fic on hold until next Christmas. However, I wanted to make this last chapter count. So, here it is in its 10,000-word glory. I might feel inclined to continue this fic after the holidays if enough readers ask me to, but I'm not planning on that happening. This ship is very rare as it is and Wingardium Leviosa has really been the only fic that's gotten a lot of attention.
> 
> Be warned, there is a semi-graphic birthing scene that lasted about a page long in my manuscript. The first two sets of stars mark the beginning and end of this part, so if you feel uncomfortable reading such things, then feel free to skip over it.  
> Thank you to those who have read and enjoyed this little fic. See you in 2020!

**December 18th, 1995**

Sometimes, Pennywise missed watching his young nurse from his mate’s radiant breasts. It filled him with a sense of pride and familial closeness that he’d never felt before their first clutch had arrived. That, and well… Hermione was  _ hot _ when she fed their little ones. While he knew deep down that eldritches were a solitary species, consisting of mated pairs and their young clutches, he never felt the urge to discard his mate or their young in favor of finding more seasoned females and spreading his seed elsewhere. In fact, the very thought send a nauseous tremor through his greedy gut.

Hermione was everything he wanted in his infinite life, and their plethora of children and future clutches were a very large bonus. When he watched her grow large in her fecundity, he was half-hard on a nearly constant basis. With their first clutch, her bump had stretched out near her knees as she sat down, resting the swell on her thighs, and there had been many times where he had laid her down on their bed and rutted against her belly. It had jiggled in his grasp with each thrust into her covered pussy, and had looked so debauched when he painted it with his inky cum.

The second time was a little different, as there was only one tiny child, even tinier than Penelope, in her womb. Hermione’s bump was smaller, almost non-existent, but it was still a win-win for him because he could still bend her over and have his way with her for much longer into her pregnancy. He’d often wondered if she would have entered another heat during her pregnancy like a cat because of their little single pup, but alas, it seemed like their son had wanted the space to himself and counteracted any attempts to give him siblings, and there were many attempts by his father.

Now, Roman, their most recent baby, had been finished breastfeeding for nearly a year, but unlike with their other five children, Pennywise and Hermione had a difficult time weaning him off of his mother’s milk. Whether it had to do with him only having to share with his father, rather than his father and four other siblings, or their son’s uniquely animalistic genes, neither the eldritch nor the witch knew what caused his reluctance.

Pennywise remembered his son’s birth just as much as his other children’s. It had been long after sunset on December 9th, 1992 when the moon was full and the color of blood, a total lunar eclipse. The perpetual clouds filled with snow had parted, allowing the fascinatingly red moon to gaze upon his mate like a colossal crimson eye as she lay curled up on their bed-turned nest. 

Hermione had been on her way home from work, barely finishing any paperwork on time because of the foreboding feelings scratching at the back of her mind. Her instincts urged her to go home, to get to her nest and wait, but she knew that there were still a few things she needed to do at her job before she could allow them to guide her. They distracted her as her temperature began burning hotter than it ever had and she’d forced herself to finish her work, even if it meant that she had to stay late in her increasingly uncomfortable office. Feverishly, once every blank space was filled with correct information or otherwise, she sought him out, taking the floo home, rather than simply apparating, and stumbling into his waiting arms, covered in dark soot and twitching with tremors.

Rose and Penelope had been playing with their magical dolls and tea set in the living room and had immediately abandoned their game once they saw their father sprint down the stairs, just in time to catch their shaken and flushed mother as she nearly collapsed on the living-room carpet. 

**December 9th, 1992**

_ “Mum!” Rose shrieked, dropping her doll and running over to cling to her mother’s robes, “Daddy, what’s wrong?” _

_ “Shh…” Pennywise shushed his daughter, resting his free hand on her rosy cheek and trailing it down her face in a soothing gesture, “Mummy’s just warm and tired from your baby brother. He’s ready to meet us tonight. Isn’t that exciting?” _

_ Rose bit her lip, ignoring the question and instead looking at her mother’s tormented expression, her eyes closed and teeth clenched in discomfort, “Mummy…” she whispered tearfully, wanting a sign that her mother would be alright. _

_ After a second, Hermione’s eyes reluctantly opened, revealing identical albeit teary whisky eyes, “Daddy’s right, Rosie… the baby will be here very soon, but Mummy has to go to bed now, and so do you, little love. When you wake up, you’ll have a new brother—” _

_ “I don’t want sleep! I want to stay with you!” Rose whined, shaking the clothing in her grasp. _

_ She clutched the fabric with white knuckles as her father cradled her mother in his arms, running his nose across her sweaty neck to feel her rapid pulse. He purred in excitement and comfort, pressing little kisses to her jugular vein.  _

_ Despite his eldest’s best efforts to keep her parents stationary, Pennywise moved to go upstairs, thinking of different ways to placate his other children while he was busy tending to his mate while she birthed another. Meanwhile, Penelope stood off to the side, only trailing behind her parents and older sister when they ascended up the stairs, nearly running over the boys in their haste to get downstairs to see what was happening. _

_ “Mum!” they cried as their father walked past them, carrying their mother as though she weighed nothing. _

_ “It’s okay, boys,” Hermione rasped, “Mummy’s going to be just fine,” she comforted her sons, momentarily holding each of their hands as they stumbled along behind their father’s long persistent footsteps. _

_ Pennywise entered their bedroom and laid his mate down on their bed, leaning over her to rest his hand on her round belly and lick her ear, “Get comfortable, little doll. I’ll be right back…” he purred, reluctantly parting from her and turning to their children who were standing at his sides, staring up at their mother in fear. _

_ At one time, their fearful scents would have aroused his hunger, made him drool at the flavor that would fill his mouth as he bit into their flesh, but now, as he gazed down upon his young, he could only purr, chittering soothingly as he gently led them from the room. He picked Rose up and held her to his chest, doing the same with Hugo and allowing their tears to wet his ruffled collar and their hands to grasp tightly at the red pom-poms on his costume. _

_ He shushed them both, purring louder and lower to lull them into a relaxed state. Penny and Robert stumbled along behind them, the latter grasping Tom’s hand to lead him along. All of their eyes drooped from the hypnotic sound, causing them to nearly forget about their mother’s condition as they followed behind their father like the Pied Piper’s mice. _

_ Setting his two eldest children on the floor, he watched as all five of them dazedly wandered into their rooms, entirely under the lull of his gentle, persuasive influence. Tom crawled under his covers, quickly followed by Robert. The red-haired boy cuddled the other to his chest, wrapping his twig-like limbs around his small, willowy frame. Pennywise smiled at the sight, walking over to them and gazing into their glazed eyes. _

_ “Goodnight, Junior…” he purred to his blue-eyed son, watching them close as he pressed a kiss to his little forehead, “Sleep well…” _

_ The eldritch leaned over the bed further, feeling his spine begin to creak, “Sleep, Tom… and when you wake up, you’ll no longer be the youngest…” he kissed the boy’s raven locks, happy when his equally raven eyes closed and his breathing evened out. _

_ Leaning back up, he turned around to see Hugo blankly putting his books away. Smiling at the similar habit between Hermione and their son, Pennywise raised his fingers and the books flocked to their designated spots on Hugo’s shelf. He paused, clenching his small fists and belatedly noticing a lack of books to put away before his bed was habitable. The clown sighed, pulling back the covers in the same way he always had. _

_ Hugo climbed up the little ladder on either side of his bookshelves, wiggling his little bum as he crawled onto the mattress sitting above it all. Pennywise held the covers up until his eldest son’s wriggling stopped, laying the layers of blankets on top of the boy and tucking him in. With a final kiss goodnight, he left the room, seeing Hermione’s shy closed-lip smile on their son’s face as he fell asleep. _

_ Entering his daughters’ room, he noticed Rose sitting on her bed, holding her favorite hairbrush in her lap while looking across the room at Penelope, who was staring right back at her. Neither were really looking at the other, both trapped in their own peaceful dreams yet still going about their nightly routines. _

_ Pennywise cooed at them, making his presence known to their hindbrains as he approached. With her cloudy whisky eyes and dress-up Victorian-esque gown, Rose looked like a little doll version of his mate whereas Penelope wore something more Edwardian, much like his usual frilly garb, but puffier and more colorful. _

_ Smiling at their general cuteness, he waved his arm and they instead wore simple, soft nightgowns that traveled down to their ankles. If either of them noticed the change, they didn’t move or comment, simply staring ahead at each other. _

_ Beginning with Rose, he picked her up and set her on his thigh until he knew she was comfortable. Quickly, but gently, he took her brush and began the surprisingly intricate process of taming her wild curls. Little by little, her shoulders relaxed, her pulse slowing. He crooned praises in her ears, whispering about how good of a big sister she was and how proud he was of her. _

_ “No matter what happens, little bug… No matter how many more brothers and sisters you get, you’ll still be my first pup,” he kissed her forehead and she abruptly became boneless in his arms. _

_ After tucking Rose into bed, he turned to Penelope and knelt at her feet where she sat on top of her comforter. Her eyes were flickering between alertness and sleepiness while her lips and nose twitched in concentration. Looking down, he noticed her little fingers and toes clenching and relaxing against the soft material. Carefully, Pennywise leaned up and touched their foreheads together, directly connecting their minds. _

_ “Don’t like this, Daddy,” she whined through their bond and he purred deeply, trying to calm her irritation at the loss of her control. _

_ “I know, little bug, but Mummy’s working hard to bear your brother and she doesn’t want you five to see her as she does so…” _

_ “...Wouldn’t bother Mummy…” she slurred sleepily, startling suddenly before her eyes slowly drooped closed again. _

_ Pennywise sighed, admiring his daughter’s persistence and determination to stay awake but remaining firm on his decision, “I know little one, but it’s for your own good. You see too much as it is…” _

_ Penelope yawned, rubbing at her glassy eyes in an attempt to clear the sleep out of them, “No, I don’t…” _

_ Pennywise’s purr turned into a growl at her rebuttal. Still having enough control over her to pick her up and cradle her in his arms, he did so, unfurling her covers and sliding her underneath them. His hands bunched the blankets underneath her limp body, partially trapping her inside yet leaving her tufty redheaded scowl exposed. _

_ “Yes, you do, Penelope Ginevra Gray,” the eldritch rumbled at her sternly and he could feel her back down with more than a little bit of sadness tainting the air around her. His long fingers rubbed down her soft freckled cheeks and chin repeatedly in the same way an adult of his species calms its distressed mate by rubbing their bellies and flanks. The motion seemed to work as Penelope’s resistance fell apart, “Now, please, go to sleep for me, little bug…” he kissed her forehead and he could feel her finally succumb to his sleeplike trance.  _

_ Pennywise moved to leave the room, but not before brushing a certain curly tuft of red hair out of his daughter’s pale face. He’d noticed the odd lock a few months ago when it had first began to twirl in front of her right cheekbone, but had kept silent about it, wondering how it would continue to grow, or if Penelope had developed a little habit of curling it around her finger while she daydreamt with her telepathy. Either way, it was an interesting piece of hair, considering that the rest of her tufts were relatively straight and liked to defy gravity and reach upwards like his own, rather than crawl down her neck and scratch at her shoulders. This curl was the exact opposite, standing out against the rest of her hair and framing the right side of her face as it grew longer and longer. _

_ His thumb wiped a tear from his daughter’s closed eyelid and he sighed, rubbing her cheek with his thumb before parting from her, practically sprinting to the door to shut and ward it behind him in his haste to get to his mate who was likely getting close to birthing their next pup. _

_ Sure enough, upon entering his and Hermione’s bedroom, he noticed that she’d gone through the same furry transformation that caused his son’s unique conception in the first place. The witch panted, shivering and writhing around on her blankets in varying attempts to get comfortable. Her brown bushy tail flicked back and forth with her agitation. Brown hair covered her entire body with the exception of her face and underbelly, her ears had turned pointy and erupted out of her chaotic curls, and the tip of her nose had turned black. _

_ Pennywise rumbled happily at the sight, letting loose his wolf-biker persona, Alpha, and allowing it to take over. Red fur sprouted from his body, leading the rest of him to grow in bulk and gain more canine features. The wolf chuffed at its mate, padding over to the she-wolf and lapping at her swollen vulva. Clear fluid leaked from her snatch, signalling that their newest pup would be born within the next half-hour. “ _ Good bitch, good pup,” _ he purred, scenting along her belly for their son,  _ “Soon… will have pup.”  _ Hermione yipped in response, leaning down to kiss the bridge of his nose. _

_ Little hands and feet kicked from the inside, meeting their father’s large paw as he rested it atop her roundness. Hermione whined at the little one’s persistence, also feeling her temperature drop to what it usually was. Now that their son wasn’t regulating her body temperature anymore, she knew he was ready. _

_ ★★★ _

_ Meanwhile, Pennywise, or Alpha, watched as she got up on her oddly dog-like limbs and crouched, letting gravity direct their son’s descent into her channel. Hermione sobbed at the tight pressure, the sound coming out in high pitched cries that had her mate purring as much as he could to calm her. Her chest rose and fell quickly, each set of heavy nipples following the movement and swaying as she rocked on the balls of her feet. Her nocturnal amber eyes looked to the ceiling of their four-poster bed and she let out a low howling bellow, almost like a battle cry, and pushed on the strongest contraction of the night. _

_ A slimy birthing sac and attached umbilical cord plopped out of her in a rush of bloody translucent slick and she fell limp, resting against the tall pile of covered cushions and pillows. Hermione breathed heavily, her longer drier tongue lolling out of her mouth as she gasped for air. Her ear twitched as beads of sweat fell down her damp furred body.  _

_ She passively watched her mate tear open the dark tar-colored sac and pluck their little pup out of the inky fluids inside, sniffing fascinatedly at the dark red blood that now flowed through their son’s veins and the inky seed that had comforted and surrounded their son as he grew inside her. _

_ With his long dark tongue, Pennywise licked the tiny wriggling puppy to clean his wet fur, even licking inside his gaping mouth to clear his airways. Once he began to sputter and cry, the wolf-eldritch let up, licking once across his little black nose before passing him back over to his mother, who still resembled a half-shifted female wolf. Hermione wept at the sight of her littlest one, holding his one-pound body in the palm of her right hand and belatedly feeling her mate’s ministrations at her cunny.  _

_ Pennywise lapped at his mate’s stretched hole, sliding his tongue inside to get at the intense flavors that remained in her womb. Gently tugging at his son’s umbilical cord, he yanked the bloody mass of placenta out of her tired channel, proceeding to gather it into his sharp-toothed muzzle with a loud and depraved slurp. Hermione paused in admiring their little one to watch in fascination and horror as he bit down on the now-dead organ, blood spurting between his sliver-like fangs as he chewed. Squelching and wet squishing sounds filled the silence as he ate the link between mother and son, feeling both of their emotions and essences through the bloody tissue and veins.  _

_ “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Hermione moaned tiredly, indicating to his crimson-tainted maw and the blood dripping onto his chest fur. _

_ Alpha shrugged impishly, knowing that no matter how many clutches they have, he would always “clean up” their afterbirth,  _ “Taste good… strong bond between bitch and pup… Would rather I eat pup to feel connected?”

_ Hermione scowled at her mate’s wolf persona’s version of a joke, cuddling her whining son closer to herself as he let out a low chuckle, “Good bitch…” _

_ ★★★ _

_ His son was a fighter. The eldritch could taste the strength and determination in his blood alongside his hunger and emotions, and could already tell that he would be a great protector despite his temporarily tiny size. Even now, he wiggled and cried defiantly in his mother’s open hand, seeking the warmth of her now-empty womb. Instead, he was given the warmth of a wet soapy cloth along his damp fur and the confining layer of a towel on his body. _

“Weaker form to start,” _ Alpha licked at his son’s exposed head,  _ “Can’t hear or see, but can smell and feel…” _ he explained to his mate, laying beside her with his muzzle peeking over her shoulder at their pup,  _ “Have to keep warm, can’t do it himself…”

_ Hermione nodded sleepily, cuddling the little one to the warm fur on her chest and letting him burrow into the tufts. Gradually, his little whines calmed as he took in his mother’s scent, “This is the first time you’ve been so chatty,” the witch smiled, running her padded fingers over their son’s back and giggling as he tried to escape his confines by pulling himself out of the blankets with his forelegs. _

_ Alpha huffed, nibbling on her fluffy triangular ear,  _ “Cheeky bitch… new pup gives reason to speak much… first pup as this self…”

_ Hermione turned to look into his amber eyes and down his red-haired body, “I suppose he is, isn’t he?” she bit her lip bashfully before pressing a kiss to his wet black nose, “It’s a little silly, considering that you’ve already bred me and we have a puppy, but I don’t think we’ve formally met… I mean… I’m Hermione, but you already know that...” she blushed in embarrassment as he chuckled at her, turning away to tend to their son as his whimpering started up again. _

“Hungry, let him suckle,” _ Alpha explained as he tilted her face back to his with a large paw under her chin, humor sweetening his directions,  _ “and I am still mate, but different form… Pennywise, Bill, and all others see what I see… but like looking at you for first time…” _ he purred, reciprocating their kiss to her own nose,  _ “beautiful she-wolf, beautiful bitch, perfect dam for my pups.”

_ Hermione obeyed him, resting their son’s head at her right primary nub and rubbing his cheek until he latched on. To her surprise, he tugged on her nipple, suckling and making little hungry cries. She gasped, unsure what to do about his noises. The wolf licked at her face and neck to distract her, “ _ Very happy to eat, bitch. Smart pup, knows how to feed… Watch as he stills…”

_ The witch stiffly lowered her gaze, careful not to move any unnecessary muscles. Sure enough, their son had quieted with the exception of the tell-tale suckling noises from his little mouth on her breast. His little paws pushed at her, kneading the skin around her areola while he continued to eat. Meanwhile, his father’s larger paws passively groped her other breasts,  _ “Don’t want to waste hard work, bitch…” _ the wolf smiled into her curls and she pouted at him. _

_ “They’re temporary….” Hermione winced, realizing that she’d never learned what this persona’s name was, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t “Wolf-Biker.” _

“Alpha, and no, bitch must be warm and soft for pup until he can warm himself” _ he purred, curling around her to steal her other primary nipple for himself,  _ “Pup won’t drink it all…” _ the beast muttered reasonably, thumbing at her other nubs and thankfully staying clear of her sore snatch and clit. While their son hadn’t hurt her badly, she didn’t feel very good either. _

“Hurt?” _ he asked, carding his fingers through hair around her nethers and tugging like he did while he bred her. _

_ Hermione winced, gently taking his paw in hers and resting it under his son’s bum until she leaned back further into the pillows, “Sore, Alpha. How long until he can warm himself?” _

“Two weeks,” _ Alpha sniggered at Hermione’s resulting whine,  _ “Lucky he’s half human… Full pups need four.”

__ _ “Can’t we just incubate him?” the witch-turned-wolf reasoned and her mate huffed at the idea, swishing his tail in agitation. _

“Important bonding time, bitch… Pup won’t learn who his dam is…” _ Alpha rumbled lowly, getting up to pace around their bed,  _ “Must sleep on you, feed from you, play with you… Pup not happy in fake womb and dam will miss pup...”

_ Hermione sighed, crooking her finger at her brooding mate, “Alright, you win! Now come here before you tear up the carpet with your claws.” _

_ Alpha purred, striding back over to her and curling around her reclined body. He was careful not to rest himself on any of his mate’s tender areas, preferring to lay a blanket down over her now-clean body and sliding under the heavy and soft material beside her. Their pup startled at their movements, but was quick to burrow back into his mother’s longer curly fur. _

_ Hermione leaned against his bulk, curling into his warm chest and leaving a large enough gap for their little one to sleep inside. Alpha rumbled his approval, stacking softer and thinner blankets atop his mate’s upper half so the pup was protected from their bedroom’s chillier air. Gently, he rolled her onto her back and curled into her side, passively kneading her multiple teats until she settled into her new position. Their pup dislodged himself from her nipple, lying sleepily in between her breasts. _

_ Looking down at the tiny pup, Hermione tried to place his features, “Romulus John Gray… our little Roman,” she cooed, running her finger along the bridge of his little muzzle. _

“Father of Rome, and father of dam… very fitting,” _ he praised her choice of her father’s name for his middle name, knowing how much it meant to her. While Roman’s ears were sealed shut, he seemed to perk up as they spoke of him,  _ “Pup likes his name,”  _ Alpha grinned. _

_ Even while damp, Hermione could see that Roman’s fur was dark brown with flecks of red beginning to show through. The witch attempted to place the exact color but couldn’t, knowing it was some varying shade of auburn. Alpha seemed to catch her train of thought, as he sniffed once at his son’s little face before commenting with little more than a hint of pride lifting his voice “Mix of furs, handsome pup…” _

_ Hermione hummed contentedly, soaking up the warmth and her mate’s approval. Alpha purred once more, licking a stripe up her face and delving his tongue into her ear. He licked further, growing more persistent each time. She wiggled at the feeling, uncertain whether it felt more calming or erotic. It felt like he was trying to lick her brain. _

_ “P-please, Alpha,” she moaned, wiggling underneath him, “It feels good, but think of Roman. _

_ Alpha lifted his tongue out of her ear and merely began mimicking his previous actions on her other ear, making her whine in pleasure, carefully holding Roman in place so her little movements didn’t disturb him, “Then be still, bitch,” he countered, holding her hips still while he continued to stimulate her sensitive ears. Unbidden drool trailed from her lips and Alpha growled happily, adding his teeth to the mix of licking and watching his mate try to act like he wasn’t arousing her. _

_ Suddenly, a loud high-pitched yelping came from Hermione’s chest and both wolfish parents looked down to see their little one trying to crawl back up her scarcely-furred belly. It seemed as though he had fallen down her torso during her wiggling and was protesting the involuntary movement. Blindly seeking her warmth, Roman could only slightly drag himself along with his front legs.  _

_ Cooing at her son, Hermione picked him up and placed him back on top of her chest fur. Roman immediately quieted, curling himself into a little ball and falling back asleep. Alpha tsked at the entire situation,  _ “Demanding pup…” _ Hermione swatted his shoulder as she covered herself, and by extension their son, with their blankets and closed her eyes, “Horny arsehole…” _

_ Alpha growled at her but curled himself around her and rested his head above hers, nevertheless happy that both his mate, and their newest pup were safe and content. _

★★★

_ Hermione had awoken early in the morning to the feeling of a little mouth suckling her left breast. It was soft yet persistent, like a leech. Opening her now brown eyes, she looked down and noticed her little pup tugging to get her milk to release and stilling once he did, kneading the skin as he did the night before. His little tail vibrated at his concentration, sticking straight out. Little sucking noises and contented moans escaped his little maw and milk leaked between his lips, trailing down his rounded face and dripping onto her skin. _

_ A gloved hand grabbed her chin and tilted it to the right, her whisky eyes immediately locking with a pair of bright blues. Red-painted lips touched her own, moaning into their kiss and their black tongue lapping at her own. An equally red-painted nose nuzzled her own, and the other gloved hand trailed down to pet their son’s back as he fed, holding him steady while his parents kissed. When they parted a moment later, Hermione gasped for air. _

_ “‘Ello, love…” she rasped, sitting up and holding Roman with both hands. _

_ “Good morning, doll…” he crooned at her, taking a moment to memorize the vision of his topless and furry mate cradling their pup to her chest while he fed from her leaking breasts, “Shall we let our other young in to see you? Their minds have been restless and it's becoming difficult to keep Penelope asleep.” _

_ Hermione blinked, nervously looking down at herself, “Won’t they be terrified? I look like a partially-transformed werewolf…” she whined, covering her upper half with a towel and letting Roman hang off her breast until she lay back against the tower of pillows. _

_ Pennywise huffed, “You’re still their mother, doll… Even if you look a bit fluffier.” _

_ The witch sighed and nodded, watching her mate wave his hand around to wake their children and open their bedroom door. As if on cue, Roman ceased eating and dislodged himself from her nipple. Hermione smiled at his little yawn, knowing full well he was going to fall asleep. She took the discarded towel from the previous night and wrapped the flaccid puppy inside just in time to see their children run into the room. _

_ Robert was the fastest, but quickly ground to a halt upon seeing his mother’s transformation. Tom stared wide-eyed as well, hiding behind Robert and peeking hesitantly around his arm. Rose gaped open-mouthed, unable to look away despite how much she wanted to. Hugo remained by the door, nervous of the tense atmosphere in the room. Penelope, meanwhile, strode purposefully into the room and made a b-line for her mother, sidestepping her father’s attempts at a hug and kiss in favor of crawling up the bed and into her mother's lap. _

_ “Good morning, Penny,” Hermione giggled at her daughter’s curiosity, leaning down to nuzzle her ear with her cold wet nose before looking over to her other children lingering by the door, “It’s alright, Mummy just looks a little different, that’s all…” Penelope nodded quietly, looking down at the tiny bundle in her mother’s arms.  _

_ “Do you want to hold him?” Hermione asked the silent red-haired toddler and beamed happily, feeling her tail thump her back behind her when her daughter nodded again, “Okay, then come sit in my lap… just like this, and now hold your arms here…” _

_ Penelope’s blue eyes were bright with excitement, her mouth falling open at the sight of her new little brother as he poked his little nose out of the blankets, “He’s sleepy,” the little girl giggled. _

_ Hermione smiled, brushing a few of her daughter’s tufts back so they weren’t hanging in her face, “Yes, little love. Babies sleep a lot, and I just fed him so he is ready to go back to sleep again. _

_ Rose stepped over to the bed hesitantly, raising her arms above her head in a request to be held by her father. Pennywise smiled at her, gently picking her up and setting her in his own lap so she could see her mother assisting Penelope with holding the baby. The clown purred at his daughter, holding her contentedly to his chest until Hermione passed Roman over to him so Rose could see him. Meanwhile, the boys came closer, clustering around Hermione, who still had Penelope in her lap. Hugo raised his arms and Hermione obliged, lifting him onto her other thigh with a sore grunt. _

_ “This is your new brother, Roman,” Pennywise introduced the little bundle to Rose, who looked down at it with nervousness, at least until he peeled back a bit of the blanket and exposed his son’s face. _

_ “Puppy Baby!” Rose squealed excitedly, trying to lift and tightly cradle him to her chest but the clown quickly snatched him from her grasp and handed the now yelping bundle back over to its instinctually-spooked mother, “Rosie,” he chided quietly, “You have to be gentle with him… While he is very cute, he’s not a little doll,” Pennywise purred soothingly before she could start crying, wiping the little bit of moisture pooling at the corner of her right eye, “not like Mummy,” he chuckled and Hermione swatted the back of his head. _

_ Hugo wriggled in his mother’s grasp when she placed the yelping puppy in his arms, helping him secure the bundle with her own pawed hands, “He’s a bit fussy, Hugo, but maybe you could help me calm him down…” she spoke soothingly in his ear, purring in her own way. _

_ The boy turned his head to look at his mother and nodded shyly, “Thank you, love… Could you grab that little pacifier right next to you? Mummy’s arm is a bit too short…” she lied, kissing Hugo’s forehead when he placed the little rubber nipple in her hand, “Okay, now take it and just rest it in his mouth and he’ll grab it…” _

_ He followed her directions, smiling when Roman did as she said, licking the rubber and taking it into his mouth to suck on. Now that he was quiet, Hugo raised a hesitant finger towards him but looked back to his mother who merely nodded at him in encouragement. The toddler’s finger followed his brother’s fur from the bridge of his little muzzle to the top of his head, growing bolder with each second and becoming a hand that pet with careful and gentle swipes, “He’s fuzzy,” Hugo giggled, turning back to his mother, “C-c-could I read to him?” he asked, scratching behind Roman’s ears and laughing at his little paws twitching within the towel in an echo of the movement. _

_ “Of course, love,” she smiled happily, not wanting to burst his enthusiasm by informing him that Roman would be deaf for the next week and a half or so. Hugo made a happy little noise and leapt off the bed, running out of the room to likely pick out a book for him to have Hermione help him read to his little brother. _

_ Robert quickly took his place, crawling into her lap to hug her. He sniffed her new patches of fur, subtly licking them in curiosity. Hermione giggled at the ticklish feeling of his exploration, “It’s still Mummy, Robbie,” the boy grabbed her ears and pet them, liking the fur and fuzz that had taken over his mother. _

_ “Soft…” Robert purred happily, using his own shapeshifting to give himself fur and elongated triangular ears, “Me too!” he giggled and Hermione scratched behind his ears, leaving the boy wriggling at the ticklish and satisfying feeling. Pennywise grabbed him then, rolling him onto the mattress and attacking his sides until he was howling with laughter. _

_ Hermione laughed at the sight letting Penelope go sit on her father’s other lap to watch with Rose as their father made their brother nearly pee himself. She turned, looking to her last child who stood silently next to her and stared blankly at the pup falling asleep in her right arm. Carefully, she set Roman down at her side and reached for her adopted son, who seemed to shrink away from her in response, “Tom? Tom, what’s wrong?” she asked sadly and he quickly threw himself into her arms, crawling onto her sore pelvis and wrapping his legs around her waist. His arms came down around her neck and she could feel his head fit between her breasts. _

_ “Mum…” he sobbed quietly and she cuddled him close, shushing his cries and rubbing his back. Like Robert, he nuzzled her fur, wetting it with his tears. Hearing his intended cry, the half-eldritch growled at his father who continued to incapacitate him by holding him down and tickling him. Of course, Pennywise spanked his arse for the sound, but allowed him to crawl over to Tom and wrap his arms around him from behind, molding his body to the other boy’s. _

_ “Oh, Tom,” Hermione cooed soothingly, running her fingers through his hair and looking to Pennywise who picked Roman up from the bed and was holding him close, “It’s okay, little love… Mummy’s here.” _

_ “Don’t like him, Mummy,” Tom sobbed, shaking his head where it lay against her chest and Hermione’s heart sank. Then, he let out a loud whine as Robert threateningly placed his little sharp teeth at the crook between his neck and shoulder, nipping lightly as a promise of punishment should he do something to harm their brother. _

_ “But why, love?” the furry witch prompted him, coercing her red-haired son to let up on his nonverbal threats. It was her job to protect Roman if Tom did anything rash, not his. _

_ “He hurt you, made you go away, made you fuzzy…” Tom listed angrily, kneading the fur in his grasp and Hermione winced, tilting his head towards her and pressing kisses to his face. _

_ “He did hurt me, but so did you, and so did Robbie, and Rosie, and Penny, and Hugo,” she explained, “and you like them, don’t you?” _

_ “Yeah…” he agreed reluctantly, looking towards Roman’s towel. _

_ “And I had to get away from Daddy sometimes when I had you five, but I came back and Daddy still likes me, don’t you, Penn?” Pennywise grumbled at what she really meant by “getting away” from him, but turned the sound into a chuckle for his adopted son’s benefit. _

_ “Of course, dove,” the clown leaned over and gave her a slow passionate kiss on the lips that made Tom and the rest of their children make little groans and gagging sounds. He chuckled and Hermione blushed. _

_ “Yucky, Mummy,” Tom whined, burying his face into her chest fur once more. _

_ “Sorry, baby, Daddy’s done being yucky,” she laughed, looking over to her mate who only grinned devilishly at her with promise. _

_ “Never,” he mouthed to her when their children weren’t looking and she shivered, turning back to Tom, who was looking up at her with an insecure glint in his eyes. _

_ “Mummy?” he piped up quietly, reaching a little hand up to pet her ears, “Why are you fuzzy?” _

_ Hermione giggled, twitching her ears to make him smile, “Roman can’t keep himself warm, so Mummy has to have fur so I can keep him warm.” _

_ “Oh,” Tom nodded, his eyes swimming with curiosity as he searched for another question to ask. _

_ Hermione smiled, kissing his hair and re-situating him until he sat in her lap, “Do you want to hold him?” _

_ Tom’s eyes widened unsurely, looking up at her and gulping, “Uhh…” _

_ “I can help if you want me to, little love,” she cooed at him, taking Roman from Pennywise and holding him in her arms. _

_ “Okay,” Tom finally nodded at Robert’s coaxing nods at his side and Hermione lowered the slumbering puppy into the raven-haired boy’s arms, helping him position himself correctly and letting Robert curl around Tom’s back and poke his head over the other’s shoulders. _

_ “He’s small,” Tom commented clinically, watching his little brother suck on the makeshift pacifier in his little maw. _

_ Robert stuck his hand into the towel and pet Roman’s curled ears and fur-covered forehead, “Soft…” he purred. _

_ Tom lifted his hand to feel his brother’s head and Roman’s paw abruptly came out of the towel to meet it, the tiny pads kneading the skin of his palm as the little puppy began to make contented little groans and whines. To his credit, he didn’t drop the bundle, instead letting Roman feel his hand and make little purrs at his brothers. _

_ “See, Tom? He’s not so bad, is he? You’ll be a great big brother… You can teach him, play with him, and talk to him, and he’ll adore you… He’ll look up to you as his big brother,” Hermione smiled at his gentle consideration and the boy nodded, looking over to her with a completely serious expression on his face. _

_ “Can I keep him?” he asked her, “Robbie can help, too…” he added conditionally at Hermione’s surprised expression. _

**December 18th, 1995 (Continued)**

Hermione hummed “Jingle Bells” to herself as she took a fresh batch of sugar cookies out of the oven, setting them on top of the stove, shutting the door, and discarding her rather tacky oven mitts. A quick turn of the dial shut the oven off and a small cooling charm allowed her to carefully move the cookies onto another sheet so she could frost them when they were fully cooled. Turning back to the oven tray, she moved to place more balls of cookie dough on it, but noticed Roman standing next to the counter, trying to reach for the bowl right next to the edge.

“Roman, love,” she sighed, taking the bowl full of cookie dough and setting it on her other side, reaching in to make more balls of dough to place on the sheet, “What are you doing?

Roman pouted, trailing after the large bowl until he stood next to his mother, “More?” he whined, his ears and tail drooping at her disapproving expression, “Pweeeeeeese?” he tried, making his eyes larger and more pitiful looking until his mother groaned, reaching to grab one of the warmer cookies off the decorating tray and crouching down to his level.

“Romulus John Gray, it is not healthy or safe to eat a lot of cookie dough. I gave you a little bit earlier, but you could get very sick and have a bad tummy ache if you eat too much,” she pouted at him until he understood.

At his nod, she handed him the baked cookie and he wagged his little tail, “Safe to eat?”

“Yes, love, the flat cookies are safe to eat,” she grinned at him and he went to eat the sugary treat but paused, holding it up to his mother.

“Peanut butter, pweese?” he chirped at her and Hermione giggled and nodded, grabbing a butter knife and summoning the large jar of peanut butter to her side. Gingerly, the witch lathered the soft spread onto the cookie until one side was completely covered.

“Here, Roman, now go run along and play. Mummy has a lot of work to do before Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley’s arrive in a few days,” she handed him the cookie and watched him scamper off into the living room and heard his little padded footsteps up the stairs.

The next hour was a blissful contentedness of baking and frosting various kinds of cookies. She’d made ginger snaps and gingerbread for her daughters, peanut butter cookies for Roman, sugar cookies for her other boys, fruit tarts for her mate, and those were just the muggle confections. Hermione also tried her hand at cauldron cakes and other wizard treats she’d picked up from Mrs. Weasley and a few coworkers she’d met since she’d started working as a healer. In the end, she had enough cookies and cakes to feed a small army.

She’d just gotten most of them put away in containers with the exception of a special kind of cookie that she hoped Pennywise and Robert would eat before their guests arrived. There were about twenty in all, and they looked like plain sugar cookies, and they were, but Hermione had gotten the idea to mix some pig’s blood into the frosting to make it a festive red. The witch sighed, counting to ten and breathing slowly, knowing what was about to happen.

Like a cat to canned food, just as she’d ripped open the bag to pour the blood, both Pennywise and Robert were instantly at her sides and figuratively wagging their eager tails like spoiled dogs. Hermione groaned at their behavior, pouring the red smelly liquid into the frosting container and pushing past her son to throw the empty bag into the rubbish bin.

“Honestly, you two!” she whined as she began to stir the blood into the frosting, careful not to spill any onto the floor or the counter because she’d seen both of them lick it off both places and she didn’t care to have a repeat of that time, “You’re not setting a good example, Penn…”

“Psh!” her mate scoffed, creeping towards her with drool trailing down his chin, “It’s all in our instincts. Don’t have to teach him to crave this… Now frost the damn cookies, or I’ll frost  _ you, _ ” he growled at her and she moaned at the threat, reaching shakily for the utensil drawer and pulling out another butter knife.

Hermione thrust the knife into the bloody frosting and the resulting quiet squelch made her blush profusely, eyeing their son who had also come closer and evidently missed the innuendos because he was solely focused on the frosting.

Faster than she thought possible, she lathered frosting onto the twenty cookies and kept her mate at bay by periodically walking around the counter and leading him and Robert to follow her. After putting seventeen of them away in their own little container on top of the fridge, she turned to her eldritch boys and gave each one of them a bloody frosted cookie.

Robert devoured his instantly, licking his lips and purring cutely at the flavor. He cuddled up to her and she crouched down to give him a hug, kissing his cheeks and forehead, “How was it, little love?” she squeezed his shoulders and he nodded.

“Good, Mummy,” he chirped, grabbing her hands as she stood back up, “Can I have more?”

Hermione bit her lip, not wanting all the cookies to be gone right away and for her son to not have his favorites when the actual holiday came around, “I don’t—” his little face drooped and the witch felt awful, but then Pennywise was there, waving the container of unused frosting and a spoon in front of his face. Immediately, Robert giggled happily and took the frosting and spoon from his father. Pennywise grinned, wrapping his arms around his mate, “Now scram, Junior.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Robert scurried off with his treat, leaving Hermione gaping after him, “Penn, that’s not—”

“Shh…” he cut her off, tugging on the frills of her apron, “A little sugar and blood won’t kill him. Now, is the kitchen closed? I’ve got a special delivery for the baker,” he chuckled at her bashful expression not making direct eye-contact with him.

“Here?” she asked quietly, nibbling on her fingernails.

Pennywise licked up the side of her neck, vanishing her pants with a wave of his hand, “‘Already warded the room so none of our little bugs will walk in on us.

Hermione gaped at him, “Did you plan this?” she yelped when her shirt suddenly disappeared as well, leaving her shivering in her bra, underwear, and socks.

“No,” The clown smirked sarcastically as he vanished her bra, scenting his mate’s arousal leaking into her panties. His hands trailed up her sides, coming to her pebbled nipples and tugging on them just like their children used to do.

Hermione whined at the not-so-gentle tugging and the uncomfortable feeling of her cooling milk trailing down her chest and soaking her apron. Pennywise bit at her nape, tugging the apron down until her large breasts fell out between her shoulder straps and the top of the apron lay underneath them. He crooked his finger, and Hermione bit her lip as the “Kiss the Cook” phrase on her red, heart themed, apron changed to “Fuck the Cook.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he teased her and reached a hand under the apron, fondling her clit with practiced frantic rubs that made her moan loudly.

Hermione leaned back and Pennywise used her relaxed demeanor to conjure one of their kitchen chairs and sit down on it with her on his lap. Now seated, he ripped her panties off and raised the seat of them to his face, inhaling their scent loudly enough for her to leak a few droplets onto his waiting cock. His tongue snuck out of his red-painted lips for a quick taste of her intoxicating slick where it lingered on the fabric. With every lap of his tongue, he became visibly more aroused, and by the time he’d finally vanished her panties, she was already shivering with the urge to climax.

“Now then,” he spoke after giving her his full attention, “Down to business… You see, I have some very special  _ batter _ that needs to be baked. I see that oven over there has cooled, but…” he stuck his finger into her hole and she yelped in surprise, sneaking a few thrusts onto the digit before he cut her off by flicking her clit, “This oven seems preheated and hot enough to take this  _ load _ .”

“I hate you…” she muttered at his continued metaphor of comparing her to an oven, even with his two added fingers thrusting inside her. Meanwhile, he telepathically unbuttoned his slacks, pulling himself out of his boxers to stand at attention against his jumper-clad torso.

“What a rude little oven,” Pennywise grinned darkly, tugging on her ear with his teeth and spanking her arse where it stuck out behind her, “But I suppose you won’t bake until you turn red and hot…”

“Ow!” Hermione cried out, clinging to her mate as he continued his little punishment, spanking her until her arse was the shade of the reddest apples, “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“There we go, now. Nice and red,” Pennywise chuckled at her shaky body and felt her arousal dripping onto the aroused head of his cock, “I think you’ve been pre-heated for long enough…”

Little by little, the purple and red mushroom head of his member snuck inside her slick cunny, rubbing its bumps along her plush, spongy walls until the tip rested against the tiny hole of her cervix. His tentacles wrapped around her bare thighs, lifting and settling restlessly to give her the sense of dozens of little kisses on her skin and nethers. He bit down on her mating bite, just barely enough to draw blood, and his hands busied themselves with massaging the pain out of her poor tanned arse.

Hermione raised her arms shakily around his shoulders, her fingers digging into the red woolen jumper he wore. Her teeth went for his own neck, biting down on his raging pulse in a way that made him moan and begin thrusting. His eyes rolled back into his head and he tightened his grip on her poor arse, making her hiss at the tenderness. Meanwhile, her legs wrapped around his hips and her ankles met with the wood of the chair behind them, both holding on as he sped up his thrusting.

The chair creaked beneath them, the old wood beginning to crack along its supports, but neither of the mates noticed or cared, focusing on each other’s hot and heavy breathing. Pennywise nibbled on her collarbone, leaving bright red hickeys on her pale skin while Hermione left bright red hickeys along the pale column of his neck. Her hands tangled in his hair and pulled with each thrust, making each one jagged and spontaneous. His hands trailed up her plush hips and groped her breasts, feeling the warm milk beading on the tips of her pebbled nipples which he stuck in the crooks of his fingers and kneaded, delighting in the trails of liquid down the backs of his dark hands.

The little witch bounced on his cock as if he was a trampoline, her messy dark curls bouncing and swaying along with her even while pinned up behind her. Pennywise grunted his pleasure, reaching one hand back to yank the rubber band out of her hair, snapping it entirely and tossing the broken binder in the general direction of the trash in favor of tugging on her free locks. Then, he used his new power over her to tilt her head to the side and deliver another harsh bite to her neck.

Hermione moaned, wandlessly vanishing his jumper and undershirt. He paid her no mind, lapping and slurping at her leaking nipples. She groaned tightly at the teasing suckles, abruptly grabbing his bare pectorals and kneading them in the same way he did to her before. Just as he hoped, he hastened his pace, beginning to pound into her wet cunt like a well-oiled machine. The sounds of their lovemaking echoed throughout the kitchen in depraved squishes and fleshy slaps. Then, there was a low groan, a loud crack, and the two found themselves a few feet shorter than before with pieces of broken chair legs surrounding them.

Hermione laughed at the absurdity of it all while Pennywise ignored both his mate’s reaction and the broken chair in favor of finishing himself off. Clearing the splintered pieces behind his mate, he laid her down on the hardwood flooring and crouched over her, never leaving her slick heat and rubbing the beginnings of his knot into her stretched hole.

His hand reached up onto the counter and came back holding the other blood-frosting cookie. Grinning with his sharp teeth on display, he tilted the cookie and lowered it to her chest, smearing the frosting all over her tits and rubbing her abused nipples with the rough, unfrosted side of the sugar cookie. All the while, he continued his hard thrusting, pounding her snatch to the point where his large testicles slapped her sore bum with each thrust.

Drool dripped from his open mouth, his black tongue lolling out and dripping secondarily onto her messy chest. The frosting and drool mingled as the clown finally dug into his treat, eating the cookie in one bite and lapping at her right breast. 

Depraved slurping licks met her ears and she wondered if Alpha had taken over for a moment because the sounds seemed eerily doglike. A quick look down her body told her that the noises were entirely Pennywise the Dancing Clown. There was no mistaking the red paint on his lips nor the sloping features of his face for the bold red-furred muzzle of the persona that had impregnated her with their little wolf-eldritch son.

With each swipe of his hot tendril-like tongue, Hermione could feel herself inching closer and closer to her orgasm. Little barbs scratched her as the organ became more catlike to pick up more frosting, catching on her nipples and making her twitch. Desperately, she snuck her right hand down to furiously rub her clit but Pennywise apparently noticed, slapping her hand and taking both wrists in one of his. He held them both beside her head, resuming his tongue bathing on her poor nubs.

The pleasure was simply too much, she thought as her back involuntarily arched. His knot kissed her pussy lips one last time before sinking into its waiting warmth. Pennywise groaned lowly, rutting against her in little jack-rabbit thrusts and chasing his own orgasm. Meanwhile, Hermione cried out as he ran his prickly tongue over her left nipple and sucked hard, triggering her vision to go white and her entire body to seize up into his in a beautifully debauched arch.

It took a few moments for the kitchen ceiling to fill her vision, and when it did, she almost felt like she was further gone than she’d been just seconds ago. Belatedly, she felt Pennywise gently suckling at her breasts, his tongue back to its normal slick and slimy texture. His knot snugly plugged her up with his warm dark seed, the slit at its head weeping more as they remained connected.

Pennywise paused in his sipping and she looked down her body at him, noticing three more blood-frosted cookies laying across her torso. Huffing at his use of her as a table while she lay rather uncomfortably on the kitchen floor, she positioned her arms behind her head.

“We broke a chair… Good thing we have magic, otherwise you’d be sitting on the floor.” she stated, her exhaustion making her blunt.

Pennywise huffed in amusement, nibbling on one of the cookies, “Easy fix, doll. You’d just sit on my lap.”

“Those cookies were meant to be eaten gradually between meals until Christmas Eve,” Hermione sighed.

Pennywise pouted, but relented, putting the other two cookies away with a wave of his hand, “I’m sorry, doll,” he sat up, bringing her into his arms and letting her rest her head on his shoulder, “but you make the  _ best _ cookies. I cannot resist...” he purred.

Hermione smiled shyly, lazily pressing a kiss to his neck, “Flattery will get you  _ everywhere _ , Mr. Gray.”

“Hmmm…” the eldritch hummed, reaching his hands down to rub her seed-filled belly, “ _ Everywhere, _ doll?”

Hermione sulked at his perpetual wish to impregnate her, “Everywhere  _ but _ there, cheeky arsehole… Damn, you! We were having a moment...”

Pennywise grinned despite his mate’s downtrodden attitude, summoning one of the mistletoe branches from their bedroom and hovering it above them high enough so she couldn’t pluck it down. It was a special variant of the plant because this magically-enhanced breed won’t allow the two people stuck underneath it to leave without kissing. Hermione had shown it to him a few years ago and it was still one of their favorite holiday traditions because they’d been adding to their list of “100 Ways to Go Above and Beyond With Magical Mistletoe,” as she often said after they were both lying naked underneath the plant trapping them together. Sometimes he refused to kiss her until his knot was buried inside her and pumping his seed into her hungry womb because only then would the spell release them.

Chuckling, he nibbled on the part of her neck just underneath her chin, forcing her neck upwards and her face to look at the ceiling. Hermione made a noise of exasperation at the plant once she saw it, laughing breathlessly at his attempt to cheer her up, “Alright, Penn,” she wiped a tear from her eyes and leaned her head down to kiss him slowly, her tongue exploring his lips and requesting access to the inside of his mouth. As soon as he parted his uneven buck-toothed jaws, his long dark tongue was mingling with hers, wrapping around her smaller organ and writhing against it in its own slow little mating dance. 

Hermione moaned at the feeling, pressing herself closer to her mate and delighting in the way his groin tentacles tightened around her thighs. Pennywise wrapped his arms around her and held her up with one arm under her bum and the other supporting her back and neck. Her fingers rediscovered his hair, immersing themselves into the lively red tufts and feeling them wrap around her greedy digits and cling to them like no human’s hair would. Drool dripped down their connected lips, his more than hers, but neither could really see the difference or cared to examine the clear saliva.

Both groaned into the kiss, each of them wanting the upper hand but neither wanting to give it to the other. It was a lazy battle for dominance, one that Pennywise would have won easily, but for now, he was content to play the game with his little mate. It made him feel closer to her than he already was. Their souls were bared and each could feel the other’s emotions in how they kissed back. He’d make this moment last forever if he could.

Eventually, however, Hermione’s human need to breathe outweighed her urges to continue kissing him, and she broke their intimate connection. Leaning back to stare at him with blown pupils and an open mouth gasping for air. She laid so passively in his arms, simply staring into his abyssal amber eyes and breathing. He chittered at her, whispering sweet nothings in his instinctual tongue despite them falling on her pitifully human ears. If their son had been at their side here, he’d know what his father said.

He kissed her again, lapping at the roof of her open mouth before pressing a quick peck to her chapped lips. She sighed blissfully, looking down and laughing breathlessly. Pennywise followed her line of vision and noticed that he hadn’t even taken off or vanished his pants or underwear in his haste to push his cock inside her. Now, his dark bollocks rested snugly against her bum and the tight waistband of his boxers, causing what she could imagine as being a painful sensation, and she wasn’t even considering the metal zipper of his slacks leaving little scratches on his erection.

Hermione smiled despite her wince-worthy musings, raising her hand to rub his two front buck teeth and the tip of his nose. He let her, grinning widely for her little exploration and humping slowly at her knotted hole, but his expression instantly changed to a childish pout at her muttered response.

“Horny bunny…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for those who have read this little Christmas special. I hope it was to your liking. :D


	5. Sleighs, Sleds, and Stealing a Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you to those who have been there for me in the past and for those who are here with me now for my first posting in 2020!
> 
> I want to keep this update short and sweet. I hope you all like this chapter. A couple of my readers urged me to continue this fic and I was glad that they did. This chapter was fun to write and fun to explore more about the kid's reactions and feelings towards different winter activities. Thanks again, and enjoy! :D

**December 19th, 1995**

“Bill… Love, could you try to be a little less… you? You’re spooking the horses,” Hermione patted his crossed arm lightly, looking up at his bright blue eyes with a tinge of disappointment dampening her whisky ones.

The eldritch’s human persona tsked, winding his soft red scarf tighter around his neck until it covered his mouth, “What makes you think it’s me? Junior’s here, too. Don’t you remember?” he sassed, subtly gesturing at their red-haired son sitting closer to the agitated animals.

“Right, right, of course,” Hermione muttered at his childish behavior.  _ Is one sleigh ride really too much to ask? _ The witch lowered her voice, leaning up to whisper into his reddened ear, “Can’t you just mind control them so they forget their fear?”

“Since when have you been so devious? I thought doing things like that was  _ unforgivable _ … Oh~ What would your little S.P.E.W. code of conduct say to that?” Hermione gaped at him, knowing he had her beat. In cases like this, a part of her regretted telling him things about her time at Hogwarts. It was only slightly made better by the fact that she couldn’t see his devilish smirk. Unfortunately, the lack of exposure only emphasized the quick flash of fiery amber in his eyes, “Or is it only okay when I do it... because I am a  _ dark _ creature?”

“It’s not like you’re going to hurt them, Penn… It’s for their own good,” Hermione muttered tensely and he chuckled darkly under the scarf she’d made for him the previous Christmas.

“The greater good?” he laughed at her angry pout. In that moment his mate resembled a little fuming teapot that had somehow crossbred with a housecat. He could almost see her ears twitching and breath steaming, “Come now, dove… I could talk circles around your petty little human morals all day. Because I have few, there are few arguments against me,” Bill wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer, even while she tried to put a little bit of distance between them.

Thankfully, Roman interrupted them by crawling into his mother’s lap, “Mummy, twee!” he clapped his mitten-covered hands happily and pointed at the monumental snow-covered evergreens at the entrance to the tree farm they’d decided to spend the day at.

“Yes, little love, those are some big  _ trees _ , aren’t they?” she tapped his black canine nose with her gloveless index finger and raised his own little scarf up to his eyes, “Do you remember what we talked about, Roman?”

The little boy nodded and pulled his stocking cap down further onto his head, “Hide my nose and my ears… unless we’re alone.”

“And…” Bill tilted his head at her side, picking obviously at his glove so his son would get the hint.

“No paws!” he shouted happily at remembering the details and his parents’ eyes widened, shushing him instantly and enveloping his tiny body in between theirs.

“Yes, Roman, good memory,” Hermione whispered her praise to him while her mate silently massaged the scruff of their son’s neck, insuring he would be calm and not become startled by their quick movements, “but we have to stay quiet about it. Muggles are scared of what they don’t understand. Okay?”

The little boy nodded, wrapping his arms and legs around his mother and cuddling into her side. Because of the long puffy jacket she wore, it was as though she’d become softer, almost like a chilly pillow. Hermione sighed at her youngest’s docileness, letting him rest his little head on her breasts while they all waited for the coachman to coerce his horses to take their sleigh up to the little chalet overlooking the tree farm.

Rose crawled into the back of the carriage and draped herself over her father’s lap, throwing her arms out dramatically, “Daddy, I’m bored!”

“Bored?” the disguised eldritch chuckled, situating his daughter until she sat more ladylike but still leaning on his chest, much like her little brother was falling asleep on his mate, “But we just got here, little bug…” he teased, tugging on a piece of the curly chestnut locks and looking down into the starry whisky eyes she’d also gotten from her mother.

Rose pouted, “I want to go sledding… and have hot chocolate.”

Bill Gray nodded, “And you will, as soon as we ride all the way up to that big place up there,” he pointed to the chalet peeking through the trees with a gloved hand, rubbing her back with his other because he couldn’t make his usual reassuring purr without attracting unwanted attention.

“What’s taking so long?” she whined quietly in her slight British accent, the question muffled by her face pressed into her father’s jacket.

“Apparently,  _ I spooked the horses _ ,” he explained blithely, taking his glove off and carding his bared fingers through his daughter’s wind-tangled curls and wondering how long it would take him to smooth them out later, and her donning a fuzzy-hooded snowsuit was not doing her hair any favors.

Rose scrunched up her nose in confusion, “That’s not very nice, Daddy…” she sat up straight and put her hands on her hips in an almost scarily accurate imitation of her mother.

Bill chuckled darkly, tightening his grip around her and beginning to squeeze, “Daddy never said he was  _ very nice _ …”

“No… Don’t squish me!” Rose whined, thankfully quietly, and he relaxed his grip, allowing her to sit on his thigh and cross her arms in a serious manner, “Can you make the horses go now?”

“Of course, my little bug…” he nodded, waving his arm subtly.

Immediately, the large horses ceased whinnying and bucking at their handler’s panicking tugs on their harnesses, falling calm and obedient as he sighed, finally taking the reins and looking over his shoulder at the family of eight, “Sorry about that, folks! They seem to be calmed down now. Not sure what must have scared them, but now we can finally set off. Remember to keep your arms and legs inside the carriage and don’t lean over the sides, otherwise you run the risk of falling out…” he continued on with his spiel, leading the horses around and up the winding trail.

The children cheered, feeling the cold wind lapping at their rosy cheeks as they flew around bends and glided over bumps. Robert marveled over the tall pines covered in multicolored lights that pulsated and twinkled in the midday sun while Tom and Hugo counted off the different types of trees, even identifying them by their scientific names to the surprise and delight of the driver, who threw in a few facts about the farm’s specific trees that had the two boys asking more questions about their sap, the animals living in them, and how long it took for each tree to grow.

Rose gaped at the ornate ice sculptures along the road, pointing at each one and ensuring that Bill saw each and every one of them. Meanwhile, he could feel his mate’s scowling eyes boring a hold into the back of his head. Smirking at her silent seething, he turned to look at her and took in the delicious red flush of her cold-nipped cheeks and the dark boldness of her glare made ever more apparent by her soft lips’ deep-set frown.

“What? She was bored,” he teased and her glare turned into a glower, “There’s my fiery little hellcat,” he rumbled quietly, pulling her ever so closer to him, “I can’t wait to have you later this evening…”

Hermione pouted, looking away, “Keep it friendly,  _ Bill _ . And no, you shouldn’t be so compliant with her and not with me. Giving me the runaround on such simple things bloody irritates me…”

Bill smiled, pulling down his scarf to kiss her cheek, “If only you knew how hard it is for me to say no to that little face… She looks just like you, my love, but small, ever since she was born.”

The witch scrunched her nose, again reminding him of their daughter, “You’re really laying it on thick now, aren’t you?”

★★★

Penelope was silent, smiling subtly at the physically cold yet emotionally warm atmosphere. She watched the birds soaring overhead, sensing they were just after a quick meal before they burrowed back into their nests for the rest of the day. A large plump squirrel poked his head up from the snow, stupidly bounding across the blanket of snow in front of it, attempting to reach the next tree over and ironically doing the same as the birds. Before she could even blink, the bird took a deep dive, plummeting towards the ground and quickly gaining speed, aiming for the squirrel.

The red-haired girl delved into her mind’s eye, focusing on the world beyond the unfortunate truth of survival right in front of her corporeal body. Sounds fell silent as she drifted away, flying high above the carriage and above the circling birds. Clouds passed through her, as did the rest of the atmosphere until she stood on top of the world, gazing at the never-ending vacuum of space. 

Focusing hard, she stretched her gaze until her eyes caught sight of the two beings quickly approaching. Before, she’d believed they were one entity, but now she realized that they were simply two traveling close together. Their forms were a blur, shifting color and shape with every second as they travelled lightyears in a blink, just as she observed mere days ago. Now, however, she could see a bit of their souls.

They were bright, but not in the same way as her mother’s benevolently lit soul. Theirs were more like her father’s: lit with the united energy of three dying suns.  _ Deadlights _ , as he often called them. 

The thought made her nervous, for she knew parts of what her father knew of his species. She’d stumbled upon his surface thoughts and before she could look away she felt their hunger as if it were her own, spending a few days vomiting and shaking with fear while her mother held her and comforted her with promises to teach her to control her thoughts and wandering mind. Her father’s eyes had been filled with agony and pain as he looked at her, choking on his own angst and clinging to her mother as though he were nothing more than a child, just like her.

Even now, with these two beings approaching her, only a few days away, she couldn’t help but feel as though they were familiar to her, somehow…

“Penny! Penelope!” her mother’s voice called to her distantly and she shuddered, free-falling back to her body where it was stiffly sitting in the stopped carriage.

The girl jumped as her soul landed back in her body, instinctually shaking her head to rid herself of the lingering out-of-body sensations, “Yes, Mum?” she stared at her mother hesitantly, realizing that she’d been caught unaware.

“C’mon little love, everyone is inside already…” Hermione sighed, stepping away from the carriage and holding her daughter’s hand so she could hop down.

“Kay, kay…” Penelope mumbled, feeling the worry radiating off of the older woman, “I’m sorry for floating away again…”

Hermione smiled at her chosen metaphor before her expression returned to worry, biting her lip as she led her daughter away from the horses and their driver, “Is this about those people you said are coming to meet us?”

Penelope frowned, but nodded all the same, tightening her grip on her mother’s hand, “I saw their souls… and… they’re like Daddy’s.”

Hermione breathed heavier as her nervousness mounted, “They’re not here on Earth, are they?”

The little eldritch hybrid shook her head in the negative, her single curly lock of hair bouncing back and forth at the motion, “No... but they’re coming...”

“When?” Hermione knelt down beside her, feeling her knees grow wet from the snowy ground. Though, with her present thoughts, she could hardly feel the chill.

Penelope shrugged, not so sure of her answer, “A few days? Distance is hard to tell in space...”

Hermione hugged Penelope, wrapping her arms around her little body to have the feeling that she was mentally present and safe with her, “Okay, but you need to tell Daddy when we get home, okay?”

Her shiny blue eyes glistened with tears at her mother’s aura and lingering thoughts, “Okay, Mummy…” She wiped her eyes with her soft mittens.

★★★

“Aww! Your kids are so adorable, Mr. and Mrs. Gray!” the older woman taking their photo gushed at the six children clustered around their parents. “That red hair is so vibrant! I remember when mine was like that… Ahh, memories… I have to ask what side of the family that comes from,” she tittered, snapping another photo.

Hermione laughed at their photographer’s musings, “Oh, that’s all Bill’s family. He’s got brothers with red hair,” she subtly winked at her mate and she noticed his pants tighten around the groin, rubbing against her snow-suit-covered arse.  _ At least the children won’t notice… _ she looked to her right, noticing Penelope’s grimace,  _ Sorry, sweetheart… _

_ It’s fine, Mum… Daddy is being yucky… _ Hermione giggled, hiding it behind a fake cough. 

Bill frowned, holding her hips tighter,  _ Daddy being yucky is what got you here, little bug… Keep that in mind _ , Penelope pouted, _ Still yucky... _

“Now, dearie,” their photographer, who hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, told Hermione, “Go ahead and sit on that there bobsled, and your young man can sit right behind you…”

“Goodie…” Bill mumbled under his scarf, smirking at his mate’s tell-tale blush.

Robert, being the tallest of their children, sat in between her legs and happily clutched Tom, the second tallest, to his chest. Hugo was next, feeling his adopted brother’s arms come around his waist in a sort of hug while he did the same to Rose and tried not to get his sister’s riotous hair in his mouth. Penelope sat stiffly in Rose’s arms, holding Roman, who only sat nicely because Hermione promised to give him cookies when they sat down for refreshments in the chalet.

The rest of the photoshoot went mercifully quickly. Their photographer came around and positioned them in different snowy scenes with a variety of props. Roman nearly growled a few times at her directing hands, but Hermione and Bill were quick to rub his scruff until he calmed down. Tom was also getting antsy between being ordered around and pushing Robert to stop being too clingy.

Rose, on the other hand, ate up the attention from the photographer, chatting animatedly with her while the older woman gushed about how much she looked like her mother. Hermione had blushed, nodding at her daughter encouragingly to take the compliment. Hugo was much more reserved, but received similar complements, given that he looked so similar to Rose.

Hermione had even gotten them matching snow-suits, albeit Rose’s being a nice pastel pink while Hugo’s was a darker blue and didn’t have fur around the hood. Her other children had different kinds of winter-wear. Robert’s snowsuit was bright red and thinner than Tom’s green puffy jacket and black snow pants. Penelope also wore a green snowsuit matching her older sister’s, complete with the same brown fur around the hood, and Roman had a baby blue jacket over his black snow pants.

Despite their differing colors, all six of the children made use of their winter wear, sledding down the steep hill with some of the rental sleds. Meanwhile, Hermione paid for the photos, giving the receptionist their address so she could send them to her once they were developed, and while she waited, she watched Bill haul his four boys onto one of the sleds and push them down the hill. His laughter was so visible in his body language and expression that she couldn’t help but smile from where she was indoors. It was times like these where she really acknowledged how much he’d grown as both a parent and a good-natured being.

“Ma’am?” Hermione jumped at the receptionist’s knowing tone, “I’ve got your photos covered. You don’t need to stand here anymore.”

“Oh!” the witch flushed, quickly walking away towards the door, “Sorry, thank you so much!” The cold wind cooled her embarrassment slightly as she walked outside. Casting a notice-me-not charm around their vicinity, she went to stand near her mate.

Bill had apparently chosen his next victims by the time she stood next to him, a squealing Rose and Penelope hanging off of his arms with their feet kicking the air around him, “Let’s do a little bowling, hmm?” he cackled, setting his two daughters on the other sled and aiming for Robert, who was walking up the hill, “Head’s up, Junior!”

“Penn, no!” Hermione cried out, but she was too late to stop him from pushing the sled down the hill.

Robert’s eyes widened as his father sent his sister’s sled flying straight for him. Hermione watched him smirk in an eerily similar way to Pennywise that she had to do a double-take to make sure her mate hadn’t somehow possessed him. Rose and Penelope screamed at their brother to get out of the way and instead of doing so, he forcefully pushed Tom to the side and out of the path of the sled before jumping onto the front of the sled as it went down. The raven-haired boy landed head-first into one of the snowbanks head-first while Roman had narrowly avoided getting hit by the sled.

Hermione gasped, relieved that none of them had been run over or worse. In fact, by the sound of her son’s own squeals, he was likely to do it again. An arm wove its way around her waist and pulled her into a solid chest. Simmering, she pushed at her mate, gritting her teeth in irritation, “See dove, no harm done. He’s got my reflexes, remember?”

Hermione frowned at his logic, “Yeah, but the rest of them don’t,” she huffed, scaling her way down the hill on foot so she could help Tom who had freed himself from the snow but was now red-faced and teary as he trudged up the hill with Hugo holding the sled’s rope in one hand and Roman’s mitten-covered paw in the other.

“Are you hurt, little love?” she cooed at Tom as she approached, bending down so she could pick him up, “C’mere, Mummy’s got you…”

The boy cried into her hair, wetting it with both tears and snow. He clung to her, wrapping his arms and legs around her in a stifling grip similar to a python. Hermione subtly checked him over, not noticing any long-lasting damage. Mainly, he seemed startled, as anyone would be if they were walking and suddenly pushed into a pile of snow. Nodding to herself, she walked back up the hill, feeling Roman’s little mitten gripping her pant leg. She looked down, noticing a curious frown tugging at his tiny face. Thankfully his nose looked human, otherwise she would have had to cover it up.

By the time they made it back up the hill, Bill at least had the decency to look sheepish. The witch said nothing, continuing to hold a now hiccuping Tom while her youngest refused to let go of her leg. Hugo stood at her side, glaring silently at his father. However, when Robert came up the hill and noticed that Tom was upset, his eyes immediately turned red.

Before anyone could say or do anything, the red-haired half-eldritch sprinted at his father and kicked him in the shin so hard she could hear bones snap. Bill hissed in pain, one of his eyes watering while the other widened in astonishment at his son’s strength. Of course, his bones would heal almost instantly, but it was still impressive to momentarily injure him, as old as he was. He’d feel like shit if he wasn’t so proud.

Hermione gasped as her mate almost doubled over, noticing that Robert wanted to continue his revenge, “Robbie! You don’t kick your father! Come here, now!”

The boy turned his head and momentarily glared at her, but as soon as he saw her own glare and Tom’s dark, scared eyes, he backed down, a nervous sheen turning his eyes back to blue. Looking more like a sad puppy, he trudged over to where she stood with his three brothers. Hermione frowned at her son and he shrunk under her persisting gaze. Tom watched the exchange curiously, knowing that this altercation happened because of him.

“Robert Henry Gray, we do not hurt others, and definitely not our family, nor do we use our strength to cause serious injuries. Your father was being stupid and scared Tom. He’s perfectly fine,” she knelt down so Robert could see his intended, “He’s just a little shaken up…”

Robert nodded sheepishly, “I’m sorry Mummy…” his gloves instantly rose towards her in a silent request to hold Tom and Hermione considered him, turning her head to look at her adopted son.

“He wants to see if you’re alright… Do you want to let him hold you?” she calmly asked Tom, who looked between her and Robert for a moment before nodding quietly.

Smiling now, Hermione lowered Tom into the other boy’s arms and smiled as Robert began to sniff his neck, checking for pained emotions. Upon finding none, he set Tom down on the snow in favor of getting a reassuring hug from his mother. She wrapped her arms around him and brought him close to her chest, feeling his quiet purrs of relief that she wasn’t really angry with him anymore. The witch nuzzled his ear, looking over at her mate who was grinning proudly and stretching his now uninjured leg. Hermione’s sour mood returned, “You should have kicked him a little higher…” she said as she stood up, parting from her sons and marching over to her mate.

Before he could say anything she held her hand up for his silence, “Go apologize to your sons. I’m going inside to find us a table and order drinks, bring the kids inside when they’re done sledding, and  _ don’t _ pull that shit again…” she huffed, stomping past him and into the chalet.

The guy standing behind the refreshment counter jolted when he saw her stormy expression, taking her order quickly and indicating for her to steal a large booth seat in the corner of the dining area.

She sat down, shrugging off her jacket now that the warmth of the indoors was making her sweat. Her jumper rode up a bit on her belly, so she quickly brought it back down. After her wardrobe was tidied, the witch cast another notice-me-not charm around the booth, noting that she’d rather not deal with her youngest’s furry little problem while he would likely be tired and trying to eat. Reaching into her beaded bag where it was in one of the jacket’s pockets, she pulled out a book and began to read, waiting for both their drinks, and her mate with their children.

The fireplace roared in front of their table and a Christmas tree sat ornately near the entrance while little white lights connected the two in delightful zig-zag patterns. Mounted deer, elk, and moose head hung on the walls, reminding her deeply of the three broomsticks and her trips to Hogsmeade with her friends while they were in school. Every once and awhile, she peeked over her book at them and noted how they really brought the room together.

After a bit, Hermione felt someone approaching her. Looking over, she noticed Penelope and Tom walking over, each holding one of Roman’s hands. The little one smiled when he saw her, tugging his mitten-covered paws out of their hands and bolting to her side. Luckily, the chalet wasn’t busy so he didn’t need to dodge anyone as he crossed the room. She sighed, lifting him up into her lap once he reached her, “Calm down, Roman… I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sowwy…” he mumbled, tugging at his hat and scarf, “Hot…” he whined.

Hermione chuckled, helping him with his accessories and removing his jacket until he sat in his snow pants and boots with his long underwear covering his upper half underneath the straps, “Better?” he nodded happily, cuddling into her warmth while Penny and Tom followed suit, removing their jackets and sitting next to their mother.

“Had enough outside time?” she teased her three youngest children and they nodded.

“Daddy’s leg is fine now,” Penelope reported, reaching for one of the menus out of boredom.

“Your father is very strong,” Hermione nodded, watching as Tom looked at the menu along with Penelope and passed a spare kid’s menu and crayons over for Roman to doodle with.

The boy yipped quietly, reaching for the crayons and began coloring the little drawing of Santa Claus and his reindeer, “Strong,” he parroted happily, turning around in his mother’s lap to look at her, “Mummy, am I strong, too?”

“Of course, baby,” Hermione cooed at him, delighting in his little purrs and fluffy laid back ears, “All six of you are,” she kissed his cold, wet nose and he wagged his little tail.

She looked over to Tom, remembering what she’d ordered of her mate, “Did Daddy apologize?”

Tom nodded immediately, “Yeah, he seemed sad and didn’t stop hugging us.”

“He said ‘Sowwy,’” Roman added happily, liking the sound of the word, “Sowwy, sowwy, sowwy!”

Hugo walked through the entryway, looking around for his mother and younger siblings. His stance was nervous as he was unsure where they were. Hermione waved, swinging her arm in a wide arc until her son noticed. Snow dripped from his jacket in clumps, the moisture wetting his hair and reddening his skin. He didn’t look like Tom had, shoved into a snowbank, but he did look like he’d gotten hit by a snowball. She chuckled, deducing that there had been a short-lived snowball fight that her know-it-all, peacemaking boy wanted no part in. His steps were measured, considerate, as he approached them, hands swinging passively at his sides. He tugged off his hat and mittens, stuffing them in his pockets.

“What happened, little Spock?” Hermione teased knowingly, teasing her son for this specific mood he often fell into. He truly reminded her of herself when she was young and had only books and their facts and  _ logic _ to keep her company. Silly things like snowball fights had no purpose when he got into this version of her “professor-Hermione mode.” Coincidentally, Hugo liked watching old reruns of  _ Star Trek  _ despite not understanding much of it because of his age, but he’d grown an admiration for the stoic Vulcan.

Hugo pouted at the name before shrugging, knowing that she’d only tease him more if he said anything against it, “Daddy, Rosie, and Robbie are having a snowball fight and I didn’t want to play…”

“Okay, little love,” she ruffled his chestnut curls, “Come sit with your sister. We’re going to have some warm drinks when they come inside, okay?”

“Hot chocolate?” he asked shyly and Penelope nodded, looking dazedly over at the refreshment counter.

“With marshmallows and whipped cream toppings,” her eyes became clearer and she smiled at her older brother’s same grin.

“Aww, Penny!” Hermione teased, “You spoiled the surprise!” Penny giggled, knowing that she wasn’t serious.

“I want mar-mellows!” Roman raised his paws up triumphantly and Hermione shushed him.

“I’ll give you some of mine but you can’t have hot chocolate, sweetie,” she reminded her youngest son, “I got you some apple cider instead, okay?” Roman pouted at the refusal but nodded, happy that he was still getting marshmallows.

Then, Bill strode into the dining area, looking a bit more damp than before but otherwise as handsome and deliciously roguish as usual. Under each of his arms, he toted the smaller versions of themselves while they wiggled and whined to be set down. They, too, looked damp with clumps of snow clinging to their hair and snowsuits.

Preparing for their arrival, she had Penelope and Hugo make room for Robert, who she knew would want to sit next to Tom. Sure enough, the gangly red-haired boy crawled under the table and popped up next to Tom, shrugging off his jacket, hat, and mittens before cuddling the other boy. Tom winced at his intended mate’s constricting arms and invasive sniffing.

Rose plopped down next to Hugo, immediately launching into a play-by-play retelling of the snowball fight that Hermione could tell her son was only half listening to. She chuckled at the sight, remembering all the times Ron tried to tell her about the Hogwarts quidditch matches and how little she cared or paid attention.

The witch turned her sights on Bill, who was forced to sit directly across from her due to the six children sitting in the round booth between them. He looked nervous, shuffling his fingers as he leaned into the worn leather and set his sights around the room much like she did earlier, “So, who won?” she spoke and suddenly his cobalt eyes were on her.

He laughed shyly, the melodious tenor leaving his lips in little quiet huffs, “Who do you think?”

Hermione screwed her face up in mock-contemplation, “Hmm… definitely not you.”

Bill outright giggled now, a bit of Pennywise coming out in the tone and expression, “I would never let my young win for the sake of their pride. To do otherwise would be lying and would boost their egos until they couldn’t fit in the house… Can’t have them thinking they could possibly beat me… Not like you, dove,” Hermione rolled her eyes at his dramatics and he leaned over to tap her ear with his tongue, “ _ You can beat my meat all night long _ ,” he chuckled at the scarlet flush erupting across her face and sat back contentedly, happy that his mate wasn’t still angry about what happened earlier.

★★★

After they all drank their fill of hot chocolate and ate their weights in various types of cookies, popcorn, and cakes, they strolled through the fields filled with different breeds of evergreens, searching for the perfect Christmas tree.

Roman bounded along the barren path on all fours, his puppy-like nose dialing in all the scents and sniffing for the tree whose smell he liked the most. Hermione held onto his gloves and boots, watching his little fluffy hands and feet as they dug up the snow and flung little chunks behind him. Rose skipped along behind him, happily throwing her arms up in the air and acting like she was in a Disney movie. Hugo periodically stopped at each tree, probing at the branches and little needles with an inquisitive touch. Robert nearly ignored the trees, still on high-alert from his rash actions earlier and preferring to hold Tom’s ungloved hand in his own. Tom, on the other hand, allowed the hand-holding, but liked looking at the trees, thinking about how each one would look fully decorated in the living room next to their roaring fireplace.

Penelope walked beside her father, who was contentedly holding hands with her mother. They both leaned into each other, him taking her hand and running it down his face. She didn’t feel right interrupting their little moment, but was unsure when she’d feel able to tell him about the two eldritch strangers approaching Earth. He looked like he was in so much pain when he was last reminded of his past and the rest of his species. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her father, and her mother already knew about them. They didn’t seem mean either, just curious, maybe they wouldn’t be so bad because they didn’t have murderous intentions.

“Penny? What do you think of this tree?” Hermione prompted her daughter, indicating to a lush, medium-sized fir tree that was thankfully not higher than the living room ceiling.

Penelope looked up at the tree and frowned, noting the small souls dwelling inside, “What about the squirrels, Mummy?”

Hermione looked at the tree, her eyes searching up and down for the nest. Upon noticing it, she shook her head and pointed to the similar-looking fir tree next to it, “Well, we can’t have that… How about this one?” 

Penelope giggled and nodded, “Yeah, there are no squirrels there. It’s a pretty tree.”

“Pwetty twee!” Roman squealed as he ran back towards them. Hermione thought he wanted to jump into her arms but instead he veered off to the left at the last second and literally jumped  _ into _ the first tree, ruffling its branches as he presumably climbed up its trunk. Every few seconds and arm or a leg would poke out but they were gone too quick for his parents to grab him.

After a minute or two, the little wolf-eldritch hopped out of the tree, holding a chubby grey squirrel in his hands. The little creature lolled around sleepily, looking just as confused as Bill and Hermione. Its tail was fluffy and its feet kicked the air in a lazy escape attempt, weak from its hibernation, “Squirrel!” Roman yipped, giggling at the creature’s wiggling in his hands, “Fluffy!”

Little ears twitched in the cold wind and its nose sniffed. Quickly enough, the creature started thrashing, likely scenting the two eldritches in the vicinity. Hermione gasped, crouching down to her son’s level, “Little love, you have to let the squirrel go back to his home now. You woke him up from his nap and now he is not happy. We don’t pick up wild animals, Romulus. If it bit you, you could get sick, and we don’t want that…” she lectured him and he whined, setting the squirrel down and watching it bolt back into the tree it lived in, “Did it bite you?”

“No, Mummy,” he smiled at her, looking down at himself and noticing the sap covering his hands, feet and parts of his snow pants. Roman touched the sap with a curious finger and realized that it looked and felt like the syrup he liked to eat with pancakes, “I’m a pancake boy!”

“Yes, you are…” Bill grinned at his mate’s side, letting Alpha out enough to show his large sharp teeth and animalistic eyes, “and Daddy will eat you up,” he growled and ran at his son, who tried to run away but was quickly picked up by his father.

“No~” Roman squealed, “Don’t eat me, Daddy!” he howled as the eldritch snuffled and snorted, tickling his son’s sensitive areas and aiming specifically for his armpits, neck, and toes.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Hermione calmly rubbed her mate’s shoulders, “I’m cold and ready to go home, so can my big, strong man come over here and chop down this tree,” she crooned at Bill and he smirked, lowering his son to the ground by his left foot and tranfiguring himself to be incredibly muscular and rugged-looking with a shaggy goatee, not to mention shirtless with only blue jeans, boots, and suspenders for clothes, “C’mon, you tosser, get to i—uhh….” Hermione’s eyes widened at the sight of her newly-discovered “sexy lumberjack.” 

Penelope frowned, slapping her hands over hers and Rose’s eyes when she skipped to a stop next to her, “Don’t look Rose, Daddy’s being yucky again.”

“Eww…” the curly-haired girl whined, covering her sister’s hand with her own.

Bill chuckled, materializing an ax into his hand and walking over to their chosen tree, the one completely free of squirrels, and slicing through its thinner trunk in one harsh swing. As planned, the conifer fell away from them with a loud crack, prompting the witch to immediately dash over and shrink the large evergreen until it fit in the palm of her hand. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a brown paper bag, setting the fir inside and placing it back in her pocket. Then, with a tap of her wand, she placed twenty dollars into the cash register sitting at the receptionist’s desk, ensuring that the tree farm was paid for their  _ sort-of _ thievery.

Hermione’s ear pricked as warm air caressed it, “So, now that that’s settled…” Bill crooned, his goatee brushing her skin in a way she’d never realized she’d like, or crave like she did now, “Where do you want to put  _ my wood _ ?”

She tittered bashfully, swatting at his bare muscular chest and wishing he was one of her fantasy daydreams rather than a living, breathing reality that her children were also subjected to, “Little eyes and little ears, love…” she whined at him and he acquiesced, turning back to his usual reserved and shaven “Bill Gray” self.

Knowingly, he smirked at her, scenting the air and licking his upper lip at her arousal, “Until later then…” his grin was absolutely feral when he smelled her begin to leak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that, I suppose. The next chapter won't be super eventful, much like this one, but the Dec. 21st chapter will be big because we'll finally get to see who these two mysterious eldritch "strangers" are. If you've read my inquiry about it in the most recent A/N on Imperio, then you likely already know. Other than that, let me know what you think and feel free to give ideas of other Christmas traditions you want to see this family partake in. :D


	6. Sneaking Cookies, Stealing Mistletoe, and Decorating the Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I know it's been a week or so since I've updated and so I wanted to get this angsty little chapter out while I could. I started my winter class this week and so I've been very busy with that and will continue to be for a couple of weeks. The next chapter will be the big arrival of the two eldriches. I want to hear your opinions as to what they'll be like. I mean, I have my own ideas in mind, but I wonder what you are all expecting to see. ;)

**December 20th, 1995**

Robert Henry Gray was an opportunist. He never shied away from taking what he wanted when he knew it would benefit him. While he wasn’t book-smart like his brother Hugo, he was smart enough to know what was a good thing and how much better that thing would be when it was his. This mindset is what led him to creep around the kitchen in the middle of the night to sneak a few blood-frosted cookies from their special spot on top of the fridge.

It only took a lengthening of his arms to reach the container and bring it down to his level. The moon shined through the gap in the small curtained window over the sink, observing his thievery passively with its luminescence. A board creaked underneath his feet.

It was all too easy to peel off the opaque Tupperware lid and snatch one, two, three… he began to pile them into his hand and he reached for another, only for a large gloved hand to come down swiftly on his wrist. Robert yelped in the darkness of the kitchen, turning around to face his father’s amused expression.

“What a greedy little sneak thief!” Pennywise dramatically stage-whispered to an imaginary audience who would have likely been his mate had she been awake and present, “You weren’t going to take them  _ all _ , were you?” He showed his fangs, his eyes turning yellow, “Wouldn’t want you to  _ bite _ off more than you can chew…”

Robert gulped and shook his head rapidly until his nervous amber orbs began to roll around like googly eyes, setting his cookies down on the counter one-handedly, “N-n-n-no, Dad…”

“Good…” Pennywise relaxed, his eyes returning to their blue hue and his fangs turning back into his usual buck-toothed grin, “Please sit, Junior,” he gestured to the bar stools next to the kitchen counter.

Robert rounded the counter and sat stiffly on the other side, still unsure about his father’s rapid change of emotion, “Why?”

Pennywise snorted, sorting the cookies back into the container and putting it back on top of the fridge save four cookies. He waved his hand and there was suddenly a glass of warm milk on the counter, “Because what your mother doesn’t know won’t get us in trouble,” he said as he handed two of the cookies over to Robert and patted him on the head.

Robert relaxed, cracking a similarly buck-toothed grin as he sipped the warm liquid and took slow, savoring bites of his cookies, “Thanks, Dad.”

There was a beat of silence, only the ambient noise of the kitchen and house crackling and whirring filling the pause. Then, his father’s eyes narrowed contemplatively and he tilted his head up, scenting the air, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Junior…” Robert inhaled through his nose quietly, catching his subtle lesson in sniffing out prey, “But I do believe I smell a little pup, don’t you?”

Quiet little bare footsteps retreated quickly, the sound of padded feet and claws skidding across the floor as the much younger boy took off towards the living room stairs. Pennywise chuckled, vanishing with a small pop, only to reappear in the next, holding a wiggling Roman who was whimpering at the hold he held over the pup’s maw, “Shh… calm down,” he hushed his youngest son until he stopped whining, “Daddy will  _ always _ catch you when you run, so I don’t know why you even try...” he bent his neck slightly and pressed a small kiss to the little one’s forehead, “What are you doing up, little pup?”

Roman hiccuped and Pennywise sighed, conjuring a small glass of warm milk with a straw and letting him drink while still laying in his arms as though he were still an infant, “If you’re going to be down here with your brother and I, you have to be very quiet… can you do that?” The boy nodded as he finished off his milk, his father sitting him down next to his older brother and handing him a peanut butter cookie, “T’anks, Daddy,” he whispered loudly and both eldritches sighed.

Suddenly the light above them flipped on, dousing the entire room in a blinding light. All three males ducked their heads at their sudden blindness, their natural night-vision becoming immediately useless. Guiltily, the two red-heads and the auburn-haired toddler turned to where the light switch was next to the entrance to the kitchen, seeing Hermione staring tiredly at them while blinking slowly and tightening her silky red robe’s tie around her waist.

Half-asleep, the witch took in the crumbs around their mouths and the empty glasses of milk on the otherwise pristine countertop. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed, suppressing a yawn by the sheer force of her exhausted glare.

“So I see it wasn’t ‘food fairies’ stealing cookies after all?”

Pennywise chuckled sheepishly at the comment and shrugged.

★★★

After being sent off to bed by his mother for the second time that night, Robert actually took a little detour, sneaking into his parents’ room and snagging a piece of a certain plant off the wall. The air smelled deeply of them, poking a twinge of guilt into his gut before it was immediately squashed by his mounting curiosity of the plant and its abilities. His father would likely approve of his actions while his mother would chide him for his thievery. 

He crawled back to his own room with the little green collection of leaves and red berries connected by a small twig hidden in his hand, just barely avoiding his parents coming up the stairs. His mother didn’t see him as she was too engrossed with soothing Roman back to sleep in her arms, but his father definitely noticed. Pennywise grinned at his son, knowing exactly what he’d done. He could smell the mistletoe hidden in his grasp. 

It wasn’t like he’d introduced Robert to the tradition. That honor actually went to Hermione, who had been toting the plant around while deciding where to place it for Christmas Eve when the Weasleys were set to arrive and had gotten stuck in the hallway on the second floor. Of course, their ever-curious son had watched him approach her and kiss her on the cheek, mindful of their son’s watchful eyes. He’d continued walking down the stairs after that, leaving his mate to explain to him why she’d been unable to move and why kissing her was the solution.

The older eldritch laughed quietly to himself, wondering how his son’s mind interpreted the strange yet satisfying tradition. He had yet to ask his mate about what she’d told him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her into their room, rather than letting her bring Roman back to the boys’ room. Their littlest one would lay between them for the rest of the night. Robert wasn’t exactly subtle about his kleptomaniac tendencies, at least not yet, so his mate would be sure to notice their son’s most recent bounty. Pennywise sighed, leaning over Hermione’s shoulder to nuzzle the pup’s fuzzy ears,  _ The things I do for that boy… _

★★★

Robert’s amber eyes slowly opened a few hours later, immediately dialing in on the bed’s other occupant wiggling around next to him. If the eldritch hybrid had been another six years older, he might have found the action erotic and stimulating given the other’s exposed skin, frustrated grunts, and general movements, but now, it was simply funny to him.

Robert reached for Tom, pulling him into a hug and nuzzling behind his ear in an instinctive familial gesture. Instead of accepting the action like he usually did, Tom huffed irritatedly and swung his arms back to dislodge him from his neck, hitting the red-haired boy squarely in the nose with his elbow. He whined at the momentary pain, scrunching his abused orifice until it stopped hurting. 

“That hurt, Tommy,” he whined at his intended and the other boy simply ignored him.

“Why can’t I get up? I have to go…” Tom bit his lip in concentration and tried to lift himself off the bed, only to be pushed back down by an invisible force, “Mmm!” he grunted angrily.

Robert’s eyes widened and a smile crept across his face, remembering the little sprig of mistletoe he taped to the short headboard above them. Reaching an arm over Tom’s side, he slid him underneath his taller frame and crouched on his knees over him, putting them face-to-face, “Tommy,” he whispered conspiringly, as though he were about to tell him the secret.

Instead, he leaned in and pressed his little red lips to Tom’s usually pale and cold cheek. With every second, however, his cheeks began to grow warmer and redder with embarrassment. Robert quickly leaned back up and jumped off of the other boy, sitting beside him and holding his hand and pressing his lips to his other hand. A flush spread across his own face behind his other hand and he breathed heavily, ecstatic that he’d gotten away with such a big thing. They were like Mummy and Daddy now...

Tom gaped at him, his mouth open and cheek being probed by his own hesitant fingers. A copied blush painted his cheeks. His eyes were wide and solely focused on him. He looked down to their connected hands and jerked his away, cradling the offended hand against his chest. 

Robert frowned at the rebuttal and crawled closer to him, laying down next to the other boy and pressing his red-haired head into his stomach. Looking up at Tom, he grinned giddily and tried to cuddle his intended mate closer, “I think you might have a baby now…”

Tom gasped and began to cry, jerking himself out of Robert’s arms and nearly falling off the bed in his haste to escape the room. The eldritch hybrid whined at the other’s distress, quickly running after him and hearing his rapid footsteps on the stairs.

Hermione had been sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a bagel when Tom came running into the kitchen completely in tears, “Tom! What’s wrong, love?” she crooned soothingly when he buried his face into her side. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him onto her lap.

“I don’t want to have a baby!” the little wizard cried and hugged her tighter, “Babies are yucky!”

Hermione frowned, very confused now, “What are you saying, Tom? You’re not having a baby. Cute little boys like you can’t have babies,” she tried to tickle him and he just wiggled out of her finger’s reach.

“I’m not?” Tom rasped, pulling his head away to look at his adopted mother fully, “But Robbie kissed me…” he reasoned, trailing off in his embarrassment.

As if on cue, Robert came running into the room but stopped short at his mother’s glare, “Hi, Mummy,” he smiled sheepishly at her, backing away slowly and searching around for his father. He always reasoned with Mummy when he did something wrong.

“Where do you think you’re going, Robert Henry Gray?” Hermione warned and Robert looked back to her, shrinking under her gaze, “Come over here and sit down.”

He obeyed her, shuffling over to the kitchen table and sitting across from her and Tom. Looking down at the worn wood grain, he awaited his punishment, hearing her huffing sent a twinge of fear down his spine. Usually, his legs would sway under the chair, his chaotic energy yearning to burst free, but he held himself rigid, hiding his deadlights behind clenched teeth and tense lips.

“Care to tell me what happened?” Hermione rubbed Tom’s back soothingly, wanting to hear what he had to say before Robert shared his side of the story.

“When I woke up, I couldn’t get out of bed… Robbie kissed me on the cheek, and said I was going to have a baby… I don’t want to have a baby,” he recounted to Hermione and hissed at Robert.

“Robert? Why couldn’t Tom get out of bed?” she tilted her head to listen to her other son.

“...I stole the… kissy plant…” he frowned, unsure of what the plant was called. All he knew was that people couldn’t leave until they were kissed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, cursing both herself and her mate, “That was mistletoe, little love, and it’s not very nice to use it on someone who doesn’t want to be kissed…” She set Tom back on the kitchen floor and hugged him, “You’re not going to have a baby, Tom. People don’t get pregnant from kissing.”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” Pennywise sniggered, walking into the room with Penelope sitting on his shoulders, “What have I missed?” he smiled, setting Penelope down on one of the barstools and going for the fridge.

“Robert kissed Tom this morning and gave him a right little scare… I wonder where he learned that…” Hermione crossed her arms and looked back down at Tom with a small smile, “Go get dressed, Tom. We have to decorate the tree today, remember?”

Tom scurried off, feeling much better than before, and Robert moved to follow but Hermione grabbed his hand across the table, “Not so fast, Robert. You’re not going anywhere yet.”

“Daddy…” Robert whined pitifully, looking hopefully at his father.

Pennywise huffed, looking between his mate, their son, and Penelope, who was now nibbling on a banana and watching their minds as much as their physical expressions like it was a particularly interesting show, “Time-out?” he asked Hermione unsurely, his shoulders hunching with his own embarrassed look.

“Time-out,” Hermione nodded and her anger deflated a bit, somewhat surprised that he didn’t immediately defend Robert’s behavior with the equivalent of “boys will be boys.”

Robert scowled, jumping up from his chair and running to the door in an escape attempt. However, Pennywise was quick to grab him around his waist and chest, but that only made the half-eldritch snarl and roar angrily, “No! No, no, no! No time-out!” he growled, kicking and punching at the air while stuck in his father’s grip.

Pennywise snarled louder, biting harshly into his son’s scruff, fortunately not hard enough to draw blood, but harsh enough to get the meaning of dominance across, “Enough, pup,” he hissed angrily, baring his teeth.

Hermione frowned again, standing up and moving a chair over to the corner so Robert could sit once her mate was done with him, “Calm yourself, Robbie,” she cooed, walking back over to her two red-haired boys and running her fingers soothingly through her son’s hair, “Don’t make this worse for yourself, hmm?”

Robert pouted, tears beginning to leak from his frustrated eyes. With a balled-up fist, he wiped at them, sniffing quietly as he began to weep. Pennywise purred quietly, looking to his mate for reassurance. Perhaps he’d been too hard on him…

Hermione hugged them both, gingerly taking the younger eldritch and setting him down on the chair in the corner and kneeling in front of him where he sat, “Robert, it’s not nice to steal things, especially when you don’t understand how they affect others. You scared Tom, and that’s not nice, either… You also can’t fight your punishments, Robbie. Daddy and I make you sit here because you need to think about what you’ve done. Today, since it’s close to Christmas, I’ll only make you sit for fifteen minutes, but you need to think of an apology for Tom, okay?” Robert nodded stiffly, crossing his arms and choosing not to look at her as she left him alone.

Hermione sighed as she got up, walking over to Pennywise and pressing a small kiss to his red-painted lips, “I’m going to get rid of that stupid plant. It causes nothing but trouble…” she hissed, “Then I’m going to go get the rest of the decorations, so can you watch him?”

Her mate nodded as she left the room, sitting down at the countertop next to Penelope and tucking her curled piece of hair behind her ear with a knowing smile, “Enjoyed the show?”

★★★

“One for the tree… and one for Rosie,” Pennywise chuckled quietly, tossing a piece of popcorn over to Rose, who caught it in her hand and quickly ate it before her mother could do anything about it.

The eldritch continued stringing the little pieces of popcorn on the garland while Hermione did her best to distract their other children from stealing pieces for themselves. However, Roman wasn’t so easily coerced away from food, especially forbidden treats like the popcorn his father was periodically tossing over to his eldest sister. His little face drooped, his ears tilting down and his eyes watering in frustration as he tried and failed to subtly get his attention from where he was cuddled in his mother’s arms.

Penelope sighed audibly, walking over to Pennywise and grabbing a fistfull of popcorn from the bowl at his side and walking back over to her mother and Roman. With a deadpan expression, she handed the popcorn pieces to her younger brother, saving a few for herself and striding back over to continue making paper snowflakes with her sister.

Hugo and Robert shrugged at the entire display, continuing to place ornaments on the tree while Tom hung up their eight stockings on the fireplace mantel. Hermione surveyed them all, standing in the center of the room while holding her littlest one on her hip. She waved her wand, leading the long string of lights to snake around the tree and leave it lit up like a Roman candle.

With another wave, a string of red beads twirled around the tree in the opposite direction, quickly followed by a silver string of tinsel. Now, all the tree needed was the popcorn garland, Hermione smiled contentedly. However, she belatedly noticed that her boys were putting the delicate bulbs on the tree in a single condensed location: only up to about four feet tall and not much wider than halfway around the tree. 

“Boys! You have to spread them out because we want them on the whole tree, okay?” Hermione giggled, waving her wand and raising a bunch of the ornaments up to the top and back of the tree so they were more spread out. Hugo and Robert pouted at her but continued placing ornaments around the tree, taking note of her advice and placing them on the more bare areas of the fir. 

Penelope’s fingers shook around her scissors and she gulped. She was nervous, unbearably so. The two eldritches were very close now. They would likely find them sometime tomorrow and she knew there wasn’t much any of them could do about it now. A sharp sting on her left index finger brought her back to her present mind. A little drop of red blood gathered around the tiny paper cut and fell upwards, staining the white paper snowflake held tight in her other hand.

The little redheaded witch frowned, her eyes watering as she ran out of the room and into the kitchen. In the back of her mind, she noticed her father watching her leave the living room, but didn’t concentrate on that, instead searching out a suitable bandage for her slightly bleeding cut in the cabinet will all of her mother’s other first-aid supplies. Penelope kneeled on the cold tiles, crawling halfway into the cabinet to find her favored bandages displaying Hello Kitty icons.

“Penny? Are you okay?” her father’s sudden presence made her jump and hit her head on the top of the cupboard.

“Owie!” she whined, backpedalling out of the cupboard with the pastel-colored box in hand. The girl rubbed her sore head, ruffling up her red tufts while Pennywise kneeled next to her, reaching for where her fingers were with his own. He pulled her close, kissing the crown of her head before grabbing her hand and examining her bloody finger.

“I’m sorry, little bug,” he crooned at her watery eyes, vanishing the blood with a quick move of his own finger, “Daddy can fix it…”

Carefully and gently, he bandaged his daughter’s paper cut and pressed a small kiss to it despite her insistence that she didn’t need it, pulling her onto his lap and cradling her as though she were still an infant, “You’ve been so tense lately, little one, and now you’ve hurt yourself… twice,” Pennywise looked down at her, his uneasy amber eyes gazing into her nervous blues, “Can you tell me why?”

“Someone is coming, Daddy…” she whimpered, her eyes watering more until her father became a blurry collection of colors in front of her, “They’re like you and they’re coming from space and they want to find us… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but they don’t seem mean, but I’m scared that they could lie.”

Pennywise froze at her explanation, his eyes widening in shock. He hugged Penelope closer in an almost crushing grip and pressed his lips to her temple, running his fingers through her hair to both calm her and reaffirm himself of her safety in his arms, “I won’t let anything happen to you, little bug,” he rasped into her tufty red locks, “We won’t run but we have to be strong. If you say they aren’t mean, then they are just curious and must have sensed us. Did you tell Mummy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she buried her face into her father’s ruffled collar where it poked out from his Christmas sweater and cried, her little shoulders shaking with her new onslaught of tears.

“Shh… it’s okay, Penny…” he shushed her quietly, rocking her back and forth and purring despite his own nervousness. He would find his own distraction and solace in his mate later after their young were snug in their beds and heavily guarded from the world, “It’s going to be okay…”

Penelope only cried harder, knowing that even her father didn’t know if that was entirely true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there it is. It was a bit more angsty than planned, but I sort of liked the drama. Tom and Robert are fun to write together and they are very cute. I added a little reference from Split, if anyone caught the similarity of Robert's comment after their kiss. Also, writing Pennywise as a dad gives me the warm fuzzies, so that was fun, too. Although, I can't say he won't get a more than a bit salty in the next chapter. ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope to get the next one out sometime in the next week. I'm also going to give a brief shoutout to januarywren for keeping me company between updates. She's always so supportive and her work deserves all the attention it can get. She is also the only other author on AO3 who wrote a Pennmione story, so be sure to check that out if you already haven't. :D


	7. Eldritch Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> This is probably the last chapter for now. My classes resume next week and I have a lot of work to do on my other personal projects, namely my novel and my winter class, before then. Maybe I'll do another shorter one in the next week, but I wouldn't necessarily count on it. This was a much longer (10,000+ word?!) chapter than I had planned (mostly because I couldn't find a good stopping point), and it has become a nice birthday present to myself, as that day is today. :D
> 
> As always, I hope you all enjoy this very long chapter. It was fun to write and explore new character as well as give my spin on another canonical character. ;)

**December 20th, 1995**

“Cave inimicum, Protego maxima, Fianto duri, Muffliato, Protego totalem, Repello Inimicum, Salvio hexia…” Hermione murmured quietly, waving her wand along the edge of their property and erecting strong barriers to stop anyone from stepping inside. 

She walked along the tree line, applying more wards. Pennywise walked beside her, examining each spell as it flew from her wand. He’d already stung his fingers a few times by touching a couple of the particularly nasty protective enchantments, so now he stood on her other side, holding his hurt digits tightly in his fists. If they could keep him in, then they could keep these strangers out.

“Do you think this will be enough?” The witch worried her lip and the eldritch pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her curls.

He exhaled sharply, “I don’t know… but I think so…” Pennywise seethed to himself. He hated uncertainties.

“I don’t think anyone will be coming into the house at any rate,” she reminded him, “and we have the blood-wards down now, so no one but family will be coming in here.

“Yes, they are good,” Pennywise nodded, unfurling from his mate and taking her hand to lead her back to the heavily-guarded house, “ _ You _ are good, the best,” he praised with a small grin.

“I try,” she nodded at him in thanks, “and hopefully tomorrow we will have a better understanding as to how we are supposed to handle this situation,” she frowned and sighed, “Penny is so miserable and it pains me so that there is nothing I can do except wait.”

“Robert is more… aggressive than usual, and Hugo is more withdrawn… While they might not all  _ know _ , they can feel the tension as much as you or I,” the eldritch sighed, “You are not alone in this pain…”

Hermione smiled, squeezing her hand in his and looking into his eyes, “I know, and we will face this like we do with everything else: together.” 

Pennywise nodded, his eyes glimmering a bit more animalistically, “Alpha wants to lay with you and Roman for a bit, to reaffirm his scent… It seems he’s been on-edge, too, but the moon will be new tomorrow, so he should be gentle.”

Hermione stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips, trailing her hands down his face as she lowered her heels to the ground, “Of course, love. Believe it or not, I’ve missed the fuzzy leather-head,” she giggled, watching as Pennywise fell away, leaving a much bulkier red-furred wolf wearing a biker jacket in its place.

Falling onto all fours, the canine nuzzled her hand with his nose, chuffing at her claimed scent and licking at her cold digits. Hermione giggled again, scratching him behind the ear as she continued walking and he trotted along beside her,  _ Missed you too, Bitch… _

“And I, you, Alpha,” she smiled at his delighted whine, “Roman will be happy to see you, too. He knows Pennywise is his Daddy just as much as you but he is…”

_ Not the same _ , Alpha nodded in understanding,  _ Pup knows sire, good bond with pup in all forms, but pup knows true sire _ .

Hermione nodded, leading the way up the front steps and opening the door for him. His tail brushed along her legs in passing, rubbing between her thighs in a way that made her question if he was doing it intentionally, or just wagging his tail in anticipation of seeing their son. Shaking her head at the thought, she stepped inside and finished warding up the house for the night. Soon, the stars would be out and night would really fall, hopefully bringing a tomorrow with some answers.

Soon enough, she heard a loud squeal of “Daddy!” coming from the living room and she smiled, hanging up her coat and putting her boots away with her wand. The witch walked into the living room, noticing all six of her children clustered around the large wolf. A little auburn wolf wearing nothing but a t-shirt pranced around his father, sniffing periodically at the older wolf’s fur and wagging his tail in an invitation to play.

Penelope walked over to her and Hermione picked her up, holding her on her hip and telling her all about the wards protecting them from the two eldritches who would be reaching them soon.

“I think Daddy’s going to be like this all night,” Hermione whispered to her daughter, “So, if you want to you can sleep with us and Roman tonight when we go to sleep,” she offered, rubbing the red-haired girl’s back.

“Please,” she nodded, hugging Hermione closer, “Can I?”

“Of course, baby,” the witch kissed her temple and placed her down on the floor, “but later,” she reminded her, “after dinner.”

Speaking of which, Hermione strode into the kitchen and started making corn, fries, and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets for her more human children and got out some frozen steaks to de-thaw for Alpha and Robert. Fortunately, Roman infinitely preferred the dinosaur nuggets, perhaps even out of sheer stubbornness to consume anything remotely edible and shaped like a dinosaur. Alpha often teased him about it, but not as much as Pennywise teased her about the eerily smiling fries she often paired with the dino nuggets.

The first time he saw her pull them out of the oven, looking at their somewhat melted-looking grins, he  _ giggled _ at her for about fifteen minutes.

“‘Bloody hell is wrong with you?” Hermione hissed when he didn’t stop.

“Oh nothing…” Pennywise ducked his head so she couldn’t see his grin, “nothing at all…”

Hermione moved to swat him, “What. Is. It?” 

“You do remember what I used to do with  _ tasty, little, smiling faces _ , don’t you?”

Hermione blanched, “Penn… that’s horrible! You arsehole!”

“I know!” he howled with laughter, holding his gut in one hand and slamming his palm on the counter with the other, “and you had no idea!”

It had been a while before she made them again, and it was only by a six-child, and one eldritch-man-child, demand that she buy them from the store. Since then, all of her children loved eating them, completely ignorant as to why their father always laughed and why their mother would always face-palm.

Hermione had just placed the fry-and-nugget-loaded tray into the oven when she felt a presence behind her, “Hello, love,” she greeted her mate without even looking behind her, standing up and walking over to the cabinets to grab plates and cups to set the table.

_ Pup is hungry, Bitch… _ Hermione rolled her eyes at his report.

“I just put food in the oven, Alpha. It will be ready soon,” she ignored him in favor of placing the dishes in their usual spots but moved Roman’s plastic eatery next to Pennywise’s usual spot at the head of the table, knowing their youngest would want to sit next to his father.

_ Have something while he waits?  _ Hermione finally turned around then, confused until she noticed Alpha subtly indicating to the blood frosted cookies on top of the fridge with a completely clueless auburn puppy in the crook of his arm.

“Oh, I get it now,” she giggled and nodded, placing her hands on her hips, “Don’t forget to take one for yourself, too, you prat.”

Roman shifted back into his boy form and yipped excitedly as his father grabbed two cookies for themselves. Alpha ate one and handed the other to him, watching him nibble on the soft treat with paternal satisfaction. He swiped his tongue slowly over the boy’s head, smoothing back his tufty auburn curls, and turned to Hermione, beckoning her forward with his hand. She shook her head sarcastically but stepped forward until she could brush his fur with her hand. His arm tugged her the rest of the way and wrapped around her in a hug.

She could feel him breathing against her hair, taking in her scent as though he hadn’t done so in years. His cold nose trailed wetly against her neck and his teeth were sharp pin-pricks on her collarbone. They both remembered the times like these not so long ago where he would hold her just like this and cradle their pup between them, letting the little one suckle his mother’s teats so tenderly with his forepaws kneading her skin. Alpha forced himself to keep his remembrances away from the forefront of his mind because he had few doubts that Roman would latch onto his mate’s breasts and feed if either of them let him.

When they parted a moment later, Hermione moved to stir the corn heating in the pot on the stove and he watched over her shoulder, only speaking a moment later,  _ Still feeding them the inferior chicken? _

Hermione snorted, “You know as well as I that I do, in fact, still feed them the dinosaur nuggets  _ and _ the smiley fries, and both you and Pennywise will tease me for the rest of eternity,” she stepped away and began to cut up some apple slices for those who wanted them with dinner.

_ Pups shouldn’t be tricked to eat inferior meat _ , Alpha complained, rubbing Roman’s back as the little one began to fall asleep in his father’s arms.

Hermione grinned, “You’re just jealous because he doesn’t want to eat like Daddy Alpha,” she indicated to Roman, “But they all like what they like, and if that just happens to be dinosaur chicken nuggets, then who am I to say ‘no’? Even you like them, admit it!”

Alpha growled quietly,  _ Pennywise likes them. I do not. _

Hermione threw up her hands placatingly, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry love. I’ve got some big juicy steaks that I will warm up for you and Robert anyway, and no! I don’t mean  _ me _ , so get your big furry head out of the gutter.”

★★★

Alpha purred quietly, carding slowly through his son’s fur as he slept on his rhythmically rising and falling chest. The little pup purred quietly in response, entirely asleep and acting as an unknowing stuffed animal for his nervous father. He was still so small, the larger wolf mused, rubbing one of his little paws with a large padded finger.

Penelope curled around his other arm, burying her face in his bicep to hide her sleeping frown from the world. Looking down at her small frame, he gently tugged her up until she lay next to her brother on top of him. The wolf knew she would sleep better in closer proximity to his purring, and she could use the extra warmth.

Unconsciously, Hermione scooted closer, taking her daughter’s spot at his bicep. Although she was quick to intertwine their legs, an action he sighed at, knowing her tendency to rub her chilled feet into his fur, he didn’t have the heart to move her.

Roman sniffed quietly, his exhale coming out in a sharp yet quiet yelp accompanied by a leg twitch. Alpha rubbed his son’s back a little faster and his breathing evened back out, the nightmare banished for now. Hermione had stiffened at his side, unconsciously hearing their pup’s distress, but had already become peaceful again. She pressed a little closer to him and rubbed her face into his fur, humming quietly in her sleep while he nuzzled the top of her head with his muzzle.

He wouldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, not without feeling more vulnerable than he already felt. 

**December 21st, 1995**

The older eldritch had stayed awake all night, haunted by every bump and creak of the floorboards and every whirr and pop of the furnace in the basement. Pennywise had come back sometime in the early morning, unconsciously urging a sleeping Roman to blindly crawl back over to his mother and cuddle into her softer body now that his sire was no longer present. Hermione had shifted, curling around her son and holding him to her belly as though he were still in her womb. Penelope, meanwhile, clutched him for dear life, wrapping her arms and legs around him as though to keep herself anchored to him. He rubbed her tense back, whispering reassurances and love in his eldritch tongue and feeling the words ease her posture a bit.

Pennywise had a lingering suspicion as to the identities of the two eldritches, but he wondered why they would seek him out now of all times. He’d been very much abandoned as a pup, left to die in the far reaches of the Todash Darkness where there was little food to sustain him, and it had been entirely by accident that he’d fallen through a portal and ended up in this universe and savagely picked a fight with Maturin that landed him in Derry, Maine. The rest, of course, was history. So, there was little to no reason why  _ they _ would need to find him.

His other thought was that the two eldritches were a parent and child seeking to find the child a mate, an intended match like Tom and Robert were. Pennywise was very old by his species standards, so his young would be quite powerful and hold strong genetics, especially with their mother’s magic. If such a pair had caught his family’s scent, it would make sense as to why they were coming from so far away. However, if they thought he would be willing to part with any of his children, then they had another thing coming. If they were willing to leave the child with him and Hermione instead, then he might be willing to listen. By the time morning came, his eyes were bloodshot with deep-set bags underneath them. Hermione had awoken and immediately tried to give him a sleeping potion like he’d given Penelope the night before, which he irritatedly knocked out of her hand, striding past her into their bathroom to take an awakening cold shower, muttering something about being wide awake for a whole year at a time before meeting her.

Hermione had scowled at him, getting her and Penelope dressed for the day. Smoothing down her knee-length dress and leggings, she pulled fuzzy socks onto her feet and led her youngest daughter downstairs to get her some breakfast, leaving her mate to make himself a bit more presentable and hopefully in a better mood.

Penny bit her lip, tightening her grip around her mother’s hand, “I don’t sense them anymore, Mummy…”

Hermione stopped, looking down at her, “Then we have to be careful, don’t we? They could be hiding their presence and be right outside the wards,” she bit her lip and continued walking them into the kitchen.

The other five Gray children were already present, eating their fill of various fruits, cereals, and cinnamon toast. It had been nice being able to teach Hugo, Penelope, and Tom how to use a toaster without burning themselves. They were the brightest bulbs from her tree, after all. Hermione smiled at the sight, letting her daughter go get herself something to eat while Roman immediately waddled over to her, his mouth dirty with cinnamon and toasted bread crumbs.

“Go outside?” he pleaded, wrapping his arms around her thigh with his eyes wide and tail wagging, “Go get paper? Pweese!”

Hermione sighed, knowing her son’s love for the chore of fetching the morning newspaper, but also knowing that her mate would likely not be willing to accommodate it. While he stated the previous day that he didn’t want to run and hide anymore, it still felt like they were going to seem pretty unwelcoming by hiding inside their house like a family of recluses. Besides, Penelope couldn’t sense them anymore and it wasn’t like they could break through the wards without them going off.

“Okay, little love,” Hermione rubbed the little area between his auburn ears and he wagged his tail happily, “but you have to bundle up in your snow pants and jacket,” she waved her wand and he was instantly dressed in long underwear, snow pants, and a jacket. 

Roman pouted at her but nodded, “Okay,” he parroted, waddling over to the door and waiting for her to open it.

“You have to go get the paper and come right back, Roman,” Hermione ordered sternly, crouching at his level and pressing her finger to the tip of his cold wet nose, “No playing in the snow, no chasing squirrels, and no marking. I don’t want to have to wash your snow pants again.”

Roman really pouted now, “Fine,” he stomped over to the door and ran out when his mother opened it, not noticing her nervous frown as she closed the door behind him.

It was quiet, eerily so. There were no animals chirping or skittering along branches or across the fallen snow, the animals either deep in hibernation or silenced by the proximity of the two resident eldritches dwelling inside large three-story house. Nothing made tracks, leaving the ground sleek and smooth with its reflective ivory while oaks and maples stood rigid and skeletal over the lush blanket and gargantuant pines sheltered them from the rest of the world.

Roman saw the newspaper bundled up in a blue waterproof plastic bag at the end of the driveway, sitting obviously with a light layer of snow on top of it. Trotting out towards it on his wolf paw feet, he felt a chill come over him. The air was cold and the wind blew the light dusting of snow around the yard while much more fell from the sky in large white puffs, tickling the little wolf-hybrid’s face as he jumped off the deck on all fours, making contact with the ice-covered asphalt as he landed.

Oftentimes during this part of the year, he prided himself in not slipping on the driveway, or really anywhere else, very often. However, a rough patch under his feet got the upper hand this time and sent him falling face forward, his hands catching most of his body before he completely landed on the solid ice but leaving his face to roughly impact the ground. Roman cried out, feeling his cheek make a painful contact and scrape on the exposed area of asphalt.

Tears welled up and his lip wavered as he laid shocked on the ground. His mouth opened wide and he began to cry, the warm trails warming and quickly cooling his bruised and red skin. The salt stung the bruised scrape, making him cry harder. His hands came up to cover his face and he could feel his supernatural blood leaking between his fingers.

Suddenly, something warm and constricting curled around him, lifting him up into the air. Roman cried out in fear, throwing his hands out to grip whatever was picking him up. His little arms punched at the soft yet bony being while his watery eyes shielded its identity from him. 

It felt like a scaleless snake, the way its seemingly individual coils enveloped him in their warmth, letting his legs dangle and kick as they pleased. Snow melted off of his hands and feet, trickling down his head and dripping onto his clothed prison. Then, the coils began to move.

Roman sobbed now, his eyes turning an angry red as he tried to bite and claw at the warm white cylinders. Instead, they seemed to ignore him, manipulating his tiny body and twisting, turning him in all directions as though something were examining him from all angles. He howled in fear and discomfort and through his tears, he caught quick flashes of something red.

Something was stroking his tail, like two snakes twirling around it and tugging slowly before fluffing it back up and repeating the motion. Roman could feel a distant humming reverberating through his diaphragm and his crying gradually slowed. This felt familiar. Carefully, another snake settled into his hair and rubbed his head in a counter-clockwise cycle, rubbing his ears periodically. 

The eldritch pup still continued to cry, albeit quietly now, his tears wetting the cloth under his head. Distantly, he heard what sounded like a quiet ‘tsk’ and then something soft, almost like the cloth surrounding him, covered his face. Roman panicked slightly at the sudden darkness, but the snake around his head moved down to pinch his nape, rendering him completely still as the cloth swiped around his face and head, drying him of both tears and snow.

When the cloth was lifted away a moment later, he was met with a large yet angular pale face looking down at him. Familiar amber-red eyes examined him in an almost clinical manner and he lost himself in them, seeing dead planets and destroyed galaxies exploding repeatedly in vibrant colors and lights. It, no, she… smiled at him with lips the color of long-dead blood, blinking to break him out of her accidental trance. A tiny bit of robin’s egg blue surrounded her vibrant eyes which were emphasized by what looked like black eye-liner.

However, what really intrigued Roman was the towering mass of dark rust-colored hair swaying from her scalp. It completely defied gravity, standing straight up yet blowing with the wind and snow. In an odd sort of way, it looked like a forest of bloody weeds beginning at her prominent widow’s peak. Curiously, the little boy wondered if birds lived inside it, or if her hair was like his Daddy’s where it could grab onto things and hold them inside as though the strands were tentacles.

Roman looked around him, realizing that the “snakes” were the giantess’s fingers, and that he was resting in her gloved hand. Trailing his gaze down from the middle-aged-looking woman’s face, he noticed that she was wearing an off-white almost dirty dress with two large shoulder puffs and a corset shrinking her middle to an almost sickly degree. The rest of her dress poofed out, looking like a bubble of suspiciously-stained fabric beneath her.

Abruptly, a breathless laugh echoed from her dark lips, “You’re so interesting…” she raised her hand until it was closer to her face, “So small…” she added in her deeper, almost sultry voice.

Roman huffed when the pointer finger of her other hand came down to tap his little nose and rub his head again. He bat his paws at the digit, making the giant woman smirk, “You remind me of my firstborn, very much so—”

“Roman!” a voice yelled from the house and both Roman and the woman turned, seeing an angry Hermione running at them with her wand out and sparking with her magic, “Put my son down this instant!”

The giantess merely raised a nearly-nonexistent eyebrow before she snatched up the angry witch with a rapid strike, faster than either mother and son could track. A simple thumb movement knocked Hermione’s wand out of her hand and sent it flying into the snow. If the witch hadn’t been so terrified and angry, she would have been worried about finding it again.

She struggled, trying to get out of the other woman’s grasp while also trying not to look down without becoming more terrified or even nauseous. It was a long way down, and without a wand, she could die from a fifteen-foot drop. So, Hermione stiffened, playing hostage until she could figure out something to get her and Roman back inside the house. 

The giantess caught on instantly, grinning at her deviousness, “You must me this one’s dam,  _ his _ mate…” she tilted Hermione back and forth, examining her from different angles and muttering to herself, “ _ Human _ ,” she spat the term as though she were referring to an animal, “but not… has abilities… Very clever, a schemer…”

A thumb dug slowly into the witch’s gut, searching for something, and from the shocked and impressed look the giantess cast her way, she found it, “Unbred, very  _ fertile _ … but how? What about  _ you _ makes such a good breeder?”

Hermione blushed, feeling very exposed as the giant fingers explored her body. She looked to Roman, who was shaking now, unnerved by his mother’s yelling and the giantess’s relative silence, “It’s okay, baby,” she reached her hand over to her son from where they were about seven feet apart before turning back to look at the other woman, finally noticing the similarities staring back at her, “Who are you, really? You are an eldritch, I know that much, but why have you come here?”

The female eldritch smiled sadly, moving her hands together so both her and Roman could sit together in her connected palms, “You care about him…” she spoke slowly, indicating between the mother and son duo before her, “I came to find my pup, my firstborn,” her sharp eyes drooped and her nose jerked in a silent sniff, “and he  _ is _ here, with a mate and a first clutch of his own.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, her realizations confirmed in those words, “Are you saying… that you’re Penn’s— Pennywise’s  _ mother _ ?”

“I am his dam, yes,” the female eldritch huffed a quiet laugh, the sound echoing from a hundred million damned souls howling deep inside her, and yet, to Hermione, it sounded like Pennywise’s, “He still shares his sire’s name… Perhaps he hasn’t forgotten about us after all…”

Hermione felt her newfound mother-in-law’s emotions despite how little she showed them. The witch shivered, feeling the cold air starting to get to her and knowing that her son would start freezing soon enough.

Clutching a still-shivering Roman to her side and looking up to address the old eldritch, she smiled reassuringly at her, “Would it be possible for you to become smaller? I would love to continue this conversation inside, we can warm up, and you’d be less likely to startle Penn than at the size you are now.”

The female eldritch made an indecipherable face at her, rolling the idea around in her head for a moment before ultimately nodding. Gingerly, she set Hermione and Roman on the ground and promptly shrunk to around seven feet tall, just like her son’s clown form, “Is this preferable?” she said stiffly, staring down her nose at the two of them.

“Yes, thank you!” Hermione kneeled, facing Roman and examining his scraped face with a small frown, “Go inside and tell your siblings that Mummy is okay, but that she’ll be bringing your Nana inside.”

The pup nodded rapidly and dashed off towards the house on all fours, leaving the two females alone. Hermione stood up and turned to Pennywise’s mother where she’d been watching their interactions with…  _ envy _ , “My name is Hermione. What should I call you? I doubt you’d appreciate ‘Mrs. Gray.’”

Her dead-looking lips twitched, “On the contrary, Mrs. Gray is often what I go by when hunting for  _ tasty,  _ beautiful,  _ fear _ ,” she grinned sharply at her bait, noting Hermione’s shock and remembrance, “but I am no cannibal, and I would never eat any of my pups’ mates or young. To do so would be most uncivilized and a waste of breeding. As for me, I have been called many names, so many now that I often go nameless, but  _ you _ may call me whatever you wish. You, too, will understand this in time as you outlive this place, but I have a name that only my mates and kin know, and that is Nefaria.”

“Nice to meet you, Nefaria, but I’m sorry,” Hermione tilted her head, “I thought I heard you say ‘mates,’ as in more than one?”

Nefaria nodded, smiling knowingly, “Yes, you see… I was very young, just starting my first heat, when I met Pennywise, the sire of my first pup. He courted me quickly, too quickly, and bred me without mating me. Then, he left… Our bond was utterly  _ weak _ , and I thought… my pup would be fine, but I birthed him. He was the most painful pup I’ve ever had, and he looked dead when I first held him. No bright colors and patterns of a male, just those of a particularly ugly female. Where I was in the Darkness… I couldn’t keep him, he would have been devoured and I re-bred and re-mated… and so, I rejected him in hopes that he would survive elsewhere… but his sire returned and took him away, believing I was rejecting him as well.”

Hermione stepped closer to Nefaria and reached for the taller woman’s brittle fingers, “I am so sorry that happened to you… If I’d been in the same situation… I don’t know what I would have done.”

The eldritch nodded and jerked her shoulders in a shrug, crossing her arms and gazing down at Hermione with a jaded poker face, “I survived, moving elsewhere and mating others, giving them better pups that have protected me for many millennia. Your Penn deserves to know he has more kin, even a few full brothers and sisters from more recent clutches.”

“Yes,” Hermione acknowledged her with a smile and began leading her to the house, “He can be so scared and lonely sometimes, and I do believe he thought himself alone for so long. Having our children lessened the pain, but I know it still haunts him… Wait, does that mean you got back together with Pennywise’s father, the bloke who  _ left _ you?”

Nefaria smirked now, her sharpened teeth peeking through her dark lips in a proud and lustful grin, “Naturally… It is rare that males leave unsatisfied or hungry from me, so I tracked him down no matter how fast or long he ran, and, well… He’s certainly mine now, as much as he likes to think he’s the dominant one... and the young he’s given me have been my favorites. As mates, he’s been the most… compatible for me, perhaps even my Other-gifted, if you believe in such things...”

Hermione blushed, not sure if she wanted to consider her in-laws mating and still having children. She stopped, just outside the door, “Wait, there were two of you coming to see us. Penn’s father is here, too?”

“Of course,” Nefaria smirked blithely, seething a bit at her mate’s slippery nature, “but I believe he slipped inside when you left the door ajar earlier, acting as the slippery snake he is.”

“Oh! I see…” Hermione grimaced, realizing what that likely meant, “I should forewarn you that our young will likely be a bit unpredictable when we go inside. They’ve never had a Nana, you see?”

Nefaria’s smirk widened into a sharp-toothed smile at her eagerness to meet her descendants, “I have had young before, and if they’re anything like mine ever were, then I think we will both be fine.”

“Still…” Hermione hesitated, “I should probably find my wand.”

★★★

Pennywise huffed and puffed through his shower, worrying his hair and skin into red scratches, scrapes, and clumps of rust-colored hair by his unintended claws. More often than not, he would use his telekinesis to make himself clean without the unnecessary time and effort of taking a bath or a shower, but in times like these where he was more than a bit nervous or stressed, he could understand his mate’s infatuation with standing or sitting in warm water while she cleaned herself. However, this time, the usual calming effect wasn’t setting in, nor was the lingering feeling of something being  _ off _ .

Hissing quietly and muttering curses in his eldritch tongue, he rubbed his tired eyes with the palms of his hands and shook the suds out of his hair. With a long sigh, he stretched his back, hearing every bone pop along his spine as he shut the water off. His tentacles spasmed against his thighs, shaking off the warm droplets much like a dog.

Throwing aside the shower curtain, he moved to wrap a towel around his waist but was immediately met by someone clearing their voice. Had it been Hermione, he would have shrugged it off and perhaps given her one of his usual baits to coerce her to let him have her in the shower, the bedroom, or really anywhere else in the house that wasn’t already inhabited by children. However,  _ this _ voice was distinctly deep and masculine.

“Well, it’s nice to see you got  _ something _ from me after all,” the voice chuckled and Pennywise nearly snapped his neck in his haste to seek out the voice and immediately spotted another clown waving at him through the mirror. 

The younger eldritch’s amber eyes turned red and his teeth sharpened at the sight of the vibrant red hair and nose, colorful outfit, and elongated cranium. Lurching forward, the much more naked clown thrust his fist towards the mirror and punched through it, busting through the cheap glass and aluminum before making a large crater in the tiled siding behind it.

Glass shattered and fell from the large busted surface, echoing his gaping angered visage. His ears twitched, listening for any sign of movement. Blood leaked around the wound, rising up to splatter against the pristine tan ceiling. He clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling his cuts sting with the motion. His multiple reflections copied him, showing his fuming snarl from all angles.

“Woah-ho! Easy there, Slugger! That’s seven-years bad luck ain’t it?” the low guttural voice chuckled again and Pennywise whipped around, meeting the empty bathroom. 

“Bloody hand and still fighting! You’re a real chip off the ol’ block,” the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, echoing strangely from the drains and bouncing off of each wall and crevice. 

Pennywise howled, ripping off the shower curtains and tossing them to the floor in his rage. He reached down the drains with his finger snakes, feeling nothing to grab onto. Towels were shredded. Some of the tiles were even broken and flung aside as he tried to dig through the floor.

“A good ole game of hide and seek should turn that frown upside down, Sport!”

“Such anger, such violence! We certainly don’t make ‘em like that anymore, Buckaroo.”

“If only your dam saw you now, Champ. You look just like ‘er.”

“Shut up!” Pennywise roared and the whole room silenced with the exception of the tap’s slow  _ drip… drip… drip _ … into the sink. Something had sprung a leak, maybe the toilet or the sink, wetting his bare clawed feet, now cut on the broken bits of mirror on the broken tiled floor and bleeding slowly up his leg and onto the towel around his waist. He was so caught up in his hunt that none of this fazed him anymore.

“Heh…” the voice finally rasped from behind him, his Bronx accent making the sound seem much more disappointed than joking, “That’s not a nice way to talk to your dear ol’ Dad, is it?”

Pennywise panted, his chest heaving with his exertion as he ignored the question, “What do you  _ want _ ?” he growled, slowly turning his head until it was about one-hundred-eighty degrees off of where it should be.

The much shorter clown winced, ruffling his fire-engine-red hair with a distracting hand as he took a step forward from the other side of the room. Pennywise, realizing that he was actually real this time, narrowed his eyes and turned the rest of his body, feeling his bones snap back into their proper places. He snapped his fingers, now clothed in his usual garb of dirty white frills and red accents. Crossing his arms, the younger eldritch glared down at the other and raised a non-existent eyebrow as an indication for him to explain his sudden reappearance in his son’s life.

“Your dam and I have been mated for some time now and we’d decided, or well… your dam decided to come visit you, to reconnect as a family should. I’m sure you can understand that…” At his son’s continued silence and unmoving expression, he continued, “So, we came a few days before the human gift-giving holiday where human families reconnect with long-distance members. Ain’t that real sweet?”

Pennywise’s eyes flashed amber for a brief moment and the older eldritch just barely noticed, smiling a bit wider and taking another step closer, “You were my first pup, did y’know that?” he tilted his head, watching his son for any sign that he was getting through to him. There was none but a small huff of breath from his nose.

“You’re a handsome devil, I’ll give you that… Tall, thin, very sharp teeth, the typical dead-lit eyes… You’ve got my red designs, too, but they’re more colorful and pronounced. Your mate must find them arousing… well, besides your massive cock,” Pennywise looked affronted at his father’s words, flaring his nose a bit more within a silent snarl and very audible growl at the very mention of Hermione.

“Your dam, though… Y’know us glamours love the big, feisty, plain-looking ones? Few colors, few marks, and the strongest fertile scent around…” Pennywise Sr. hummed to himself in remembrance while Pennywise blinked, not understanding the point to the topic, “So, anyway, your dam was barely ready to breed when she called me, her scent aroused and aching for a good breeding, so I gave it to her good, and it caught…”

“No shit,” Pennywise huffed, rolling his eyes. He should know how eldritches, or hybrids, are made, considering that he’s made five of them.

“I left your dam, considering that she turned out to be a real possessive bitch and a demanding heat partner after a few rounds, even tried to swallow me and keep me in her gullet when I first tried to leave, but she had you and rejected you, rejected  _ us _ . I got out of there as fast as I could, taking you with me and—”

Pennywise cracked his bloody knuckles, gritting his pin-prick teeth, “I know the ending to  _ this _ part of the story, so keep that in mind as you choose your next words  _ very carefully _ .”

“Alright, fine! I dumped you off on some rock as soon as I could. I couldn’t risk your scent leading her to me and who knows what she would have done to you!?”

Pennywise frowned now, knowing that there was a smidge of genuine concern in the other’s words, “and now?”

The other eldritch chuckled now, tilting his head and nodding, “She’s still a possessive bitch, but she’d mated me after finally trackin’ me down with her small army of pups she had after you. Gotta admit, she’s grown on me, probably the closest to my… what’s the word? Soulmate?”

Pennywise nodded stiffly, wondering if Hermione would have ever run away from him if he’d gotten her pregnant before instilling the mating bite into her very soul and body. Without his little extra push for them to be together, would she have resisted? He didn’t like thinking about the possibility.

“I was bein’ serious before, Junior… We came to make amends, and apologise… so…” Pennywise Sr. wrapped his plushy purple and green arms around his tall son and squeezed him until he could hear organs rupture. The younger eldritch winced, but remained firm until he was released a moment later, “I’m sorry, kid.”

A moment passed between them, the most content one of the morning until the taller of the two Pennywises broke the silence with a shake of his head, “Hermione’s going to murder me…”

Pennywise Sr. clapped his son on the shoulder and stepped towards the door with an off-handed wave, “An occupational hazard of being mated, I’ll say… Be glad yours is too small to  _ eat _ you… If my eldest pup can’t fix such a small mess, than I might just disown you...  _ again _ .

Pennywise Jr. growled lowly, waving his arms around to clean up the broken glass and tiles lying amongst the rags that had once been towels and washcloths.

★★★

“How do you even have a photo album of this?” Hermione gaped at the thick volume in the old eldritch’s thin hands, “Your children have to be millions, if not billions of years old…”

“They are merely my memories put into a form you can see. I take pride in remembering every single one of my pups, even my estranged ones,” she momentarily looked upwards and frowned, checking in on her mate and eldest son. Offhandedly, she flipped through the album.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hermione prevented Nefaria from turning the page of her surprisingly extensive album of family members, namely her mate’s newly-discovered brothers and sisters, “Who is  _ that _ ?” she pointed to a thin, pale, and smirking clown whose hair was a vibrant sky blue. Black diamonds shaded his vibrant green eyes and he wore what looked like a deep purple and green magician’s tuxedo and white gloves.

“Oh!” Nefaria gushed, her voice rising a bit to sound less aloof and more soft, “That’s Eckles, my little ice prince. He’s certainly handsome, isn’t he? Much more vibrant than my eldest,” she commented, amazing Hermione with how brutally honest she was about her children’s supposed ugliness.

“Merlin, you say that like I’ve mated a troll,” Hermione giggled and Nefaria grinned sharply at her, cooing as her grandchildren came down the stairs with another album.

“Nonsense!” the old eldritch huffed humorously, sipping blood from one of Hermione’s teacups, “He is simply more androgynous than my other children, as he resembles me much more than his father, which has it’s own advantages…” 

“So… he’s  _ girly _ ? You better not tell  _ him _ that,” the witch giggled, taking the album from Penelope who walked over to her grandmother and allowed herself to be seated on the older woman’s lap.

“Of course not. These little ones, on the other hand,” she hummed, indicating to Robert and Penelope’s freckles and blue eyes, “Have a fascinating facial pattern. It’s human, is it not?”

Hermione smiled, “Yes, it certainly is… well… the eyes are from Penn, or at least the human form that made them.” At Nefaria’s head tilt, Hermione blushed, choosing her words carefully in consideration of her nearby children.

“I believe that our children are born with the characteristics that Penn had when I… uhh… was bred.”

“Bread!” Roman giggled, “Mummy’s not bread!” he cuddled up to her and wagged his tail, “Can I has more cimummum toast pwease, Mummy?”

Hermione giggled, “Of course, silly boy, and it’s ‘cinnamon,’ little love,” she rubbed between his ears and he purred, launching himself off of her lap in his haste to eat more cinnamon toast. The witch sighed, sharing a look with Penelope, who immediately looked to Tom and the boy dashed off to assist, leaving Robert staring after him thoughtfully. Nefaria caught the exchange and smiled at how close-knit they all were. 

“Your young are so delightful, Hermione. My pup chose well for his mate,” the older female grinned at her, taking the witch’s hands in her own, “Rosie, little one, come sit with me,” she hummed as her son’s eldest pup came to sit beside her.

“Okay, Nana,” Rose chirped, giggling as the eldritch lifted her into her lap and she sunk into the plush cushion of her gown.

“What a beautiful girl,” Nefaria cooed, “She’d be fought over by our kind, just like you, dear,” she praised Hermione, “It’s compelling how much she resembles you, as does your little Hugo.”

Hugo jerked at the mention of his name, partially hiding behind Hermione. He was still hesitant of approaching his grandmother, allowing the more eager of his siblings forward to steal the old eldritch’s attention, “If he turns submissive, then he would definitely be well sought-after.”

Hermione laughed awkwardly, flipping open her own album and trying to find some baby pictures to throw at Pennywise’s mother, “We haven’t really thought about that yet, and you might just give my mate a heart-attack by mentioning such things… He is rather possessive of myself and our children,” she grabbed a handful of photos and handed them to Nefaria, watching her eyes soften deeply.

“Naturally, it is because of our possessiveness that makes our species so strong. We hoard away all that we hold dear— Oh, Other!” Nefaria gasped, her voice quieting to a mere whisper, “He looks just like my Pennywise, my pup…”

In the magically-moving photo, Robert was about a month old and kicking his chubby little legs back and forth to meet his father’s gloved hands. Pennywise eventually moved into the frame, nuzzling his son’s nose and kissing his forehead. In the last few seconds, Robert looked toward the camera and dribbled over himself, clapping his hands jerkily together at the sight of his mother, “They’re definitely cut from the same cloth,” Hermione agreed, turning to look at Robert, who was holding Tom possessively in his lap while the other boy leaned into his intended, feeling safer in his embrace. Roman sat oblivious beside them, munching quietly on his small stack of toast.

“Now who are these two? Are they really twins?” Hermione looked down at Nefaria’s album and gushed at the seemingly identical twins with similar red-stained grins, smudgy raccoon eyes, and spiky deep purple hair covered by three-pointed jester hats.

“Yes,” Nefaria nodded, “That one is Harpo, and the other is Pierrot. They were in a bigger clutch but had split into two pups and eaten the others except for one, their little sister, Petalrina.” The older woman pointed to the picture underneath Harpo, showing off a little pale girl with lilac pigtails and circular blush marks wearing a tutu.

Hermione winced, looking at how very wooden the child seemed, much like a little doll, “She looks… fragile.”

Nefaria made a noise that sounded like an elegant snort, “Show’s how much an eldritch’s looks can be deceiving. Most of the time, they run from her if they catch her in an off mood—”

“Neffie, my sweet, succulent—” a deep guttural voice trailed down the stairs, taking form as a shorter, pudgy, and colorful clown looking a little ruffled under the feathers as it came closer.

“Cease your ramblings, mate,” she looked down her nose at him with narrowed eyes despite being seated and by extension, shorter than him, “Did you speak with our pup?”

The clown stopped, gaping at her different size, “Y-you’re  _ tiny _ ! Since when could you do that?”

Nefaria rolled her eyes, “Always… not that you ever bothered to ask until now. How is our son, Pennywise?”

Pennywise Sr. winced, but quickly shook it off and pasted a big smile over his face “He’s fine, we fought, we hugged, we cried—” Nefaria glared at him, “...nobody cried, I apologized, just like you said!”

The older woman’s glare softened and she crooked her finger at him, urging him to come closer. He did so reluctantly and Hermione wondered if it had something to do with how female eldritches supposedly ate the mates they were unhappy with, “Good boy,” she crooned at him, pressing a quick kiss to his neck and he blushed with a shy grin, making Hermione wonder even more at the odd dynamic the two of them had, “Now, come sit and meet Junior’s pups,” she gushed subtly, shifting Rose over, who immediately pulled her grandfather into a hug.

“Ye might as well call me ‘Papawise,’” the old eldrich told the six children, “It’ll save us all the confusion, right?”

“Hi, Papawise,” Rose giggled into his yellow overalls and the male chuckled, patting her head with his gloved fingers, “I’m so glad you’re here…”

“Well, thanks, kiddo!” Pennywise Sr. exclaimed, opening his other arm to receive a hug from a nervous Hugo, “Yer gonna make this ol’ eldritch heart explode.”

“Pity if that should happen,” Nefaria smiled blithely, sipping her tea, “After all the time it took to tie you to me...”

“I know, toots, I’m a real catch,” he responded proudly, “Now, I wanna hear names in birth order, hmm?” he prompted all of the kids, “Which of you is the oldest?”

“Me, me!” Rose climbed off of her grandfather and stood next to Hugo, “I’m the oldest, Papawise! I’m Rose.”

“Ah, Rose!” the old eldritch rubbed his chin contemplatively and pulled a rose out of his sleeve, giving it to her, “Here ya go, kid! Be careful of the thorns.”

“Thanks! It’s pretty,” Rose gushed, sitting down next to Hermione and admiring her gift.

Roman looked between Rose’s flower and his grandfather, immediately abandoning his toast in favor of moving towards the eldritch. Hermione intervened, picking him up and setting him in her lap, “But, mummy, I wanna pwesent!” he whined quietly.

Hermione purred at him, “But it’s not your turn, little love, and you’re covered in crumbs. I don’t think Papawise would like it if you were crawling over him while being such a messy boy,” she reasoned, taking a wipe out of her pocket and cleaning his little face and feet before brushing the rest of the crumbs on his clothes off with her hand.

H-h-hello, p-p-Papawise, I’m Hugo,” the boy bit his lip as he stood in front of his grandparents, “I was born after Rose…”

Pennywise Sr. pulled him into another hug, “And what a smart little pup, you are, too. I can almost see those cogs turning in your head, sonny,” he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a book, handing the small thing to Hugo, “A little something to wrap that mind around…”

Hugo gasped, looking up at his grandfather, “Thank you, Papawise!” he ran over to his mother and showed off his book, _100_ _Easy Magic Tricks_.

“Ooh! That looks like it will be fun, Hugo,” Hermione grinned, “Maybe Daddy could help you, too.”

“Where is Daddy?” Robert wondered aloud, standing up with Tom to receive his present from his grandfather, “I’m Robert,” he introduced himself, “and this is Tom. He is my heart.”

Hermione and Tom shared a confused look, the other boy had never said that before, often calling him his brother, or simply “mine.” His grandparents ate it up, though, both Nefaria and Pennywise Sr. hugging them with happy purrs.

“Marvelous!” Papawise pat them both on the head and handed them a game box for _Guess_ _Who?_ , “In that case, you might want something to play with together. I can’t believe one of my pup’s pups is all but mated already. I feel _old_ …” he sagged and everyone laughed, including Nefaria who tittered for a moment and swatted his shoulder with a suddenly-present paper fan.

After a few moments, Penelope piped up from Nefaria’s lap, taking the older woman’s fawning and brushing her hair with her bony fingers in stride, “I’m Penelope, but most call me ‘Penny.’ It fits with yours and Daddy’s names.

“So it does!” Papawise grinned at her with his normal teeth, “and here’s a little something for you, little telepath,” he handed her a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, reminding Hermione of Harry as her daughter put them on, “They’ll give you a bit of distance when stargazing.”

Penelope blinked and blushed, at the realization that they’d definitely noticed her during their journey to the Earth, “Sorry, I spied on you…”

“Oh, don’t be!” Papawise smiled, hugging her.

“Indeed,” Nefaria curled around them both, “You intrigued us, and we had to wonder if you were related to us, and I couldn’t be prouder to have such a powerful descendant.”

Penelope smiled and nodded, taking her gift and rushing upstairs to put it away. Roman immediately took her place and wagged his little tail in eagerness, “Hi, Papawise! I’m Romulus, but Mummy calls me ‘Roman.’”

Papawise’s eyes widened at the boy’s fur and canine features, “Well, aren’t you a fuzzy little pup! It’s nice to finally meet you, Roman,” he nodded as he picked up the little one and turned him around, looking curiously at his tail and turning to Hermione, “Now how did—?”

“I looked  _ very _ different while breeding my mate, and we got him,” a new voice answered Pennywise Sr.’s unspoken question.

Everyone looked to the stairs and noticed that Pennywise was coming down the creaking steps. He still looked exhausted, but a bit more calm than Hermione had observed when she’d awoken earlier that morning. His clown costume was more or less pristine and neat on his body and his steps were confident as he descended. However, as soon as he reached the bottom, he was enveloped in a pair of thin brittle arms and pressed into a stiff body.

Nefaria sniffed her son eagerly, taking note of Hermione’s scent embedded into the saturated smell of the little pup she’d lost so long ago. Tears leaked from her eyes at its fragrance, wetting her rusty gravity-defying hair. He was her lost pup, and she’d finally found him after all the long shadowy days and even grimmer nights searching for him in the Todash Darkness.

She cried silently, periodically licking her son’s face and neck only for him to squirm in a futile escape attempt, “Dam, stop licking me! I’m grown up with a mate and clutches of my own. I’m not a pup!” Nefaria purred and dug her fingers into the slight scruff of his neck. Suddenly, Pennywise was limp in her grasp, gaping at how easy it was to manipulate him.

“You will always be my pup, always, Pennywise…” the female eldritch cooed, picking him up with a strength Hermione didn’t think was possible and walking over to her. Pennywise blinked angrily as his mother laid him down on the couch and rested his head on his mate’s thighs, “You seem weary, my pup…”

Pennywise moved to contradict her, starting to sit up and likely start another argument but Hermione stopped him with a hand on his chest, “You start another fight right now, and I will leave you for your hot brother,” she giggled as his eyes narrowed at her and he gripped her upper arms, bringing her down with him as he laid on her thighs.

“You wouldn’t,” Pennywise threatened, kissing her hungrily now that his mate’s long curly hair cushioned them from being noticed by their less-observant children.

“No, I wouldn’t… But that doesn’t mean he’s not hot.” Hermione smiled and leaned back up, manually shutting her mate’s eyes with her hand, “Now please, try to get a little sleep.”

Pennywise huffed against her side, curling in on himself and obeying her request.

Papawise snorted, “If you’re talkin’ about Eckles, Hermione…” Nefaria nodded when he looked to her for confirmation on both his son’s mate’s name and the “brother” in question, “He’d be all over you in a heartbeat, but I’m afraid he didn’t inherit the same “package” as Junior over there,” he indicated to his son, who the witch could feel was now smirking into her belly, “It’s a real shame… he’s unmated with no pups, a very handsome devil, and very virile,” Hermione grinned knowingly at the slow pricking of her mate’s patience, sharing a look with his father’s beady yellow eyes, “I could send him your way, if you’re still interested.”

Pennywise was off her lap and launching himself at his father in less than a second. Papawise simply shrunk with a deep laugh, “Up high,” he taunted as his son flew over the couch, only grazing him with his dark claws. 

Hermione sighed, smiling in understanding as to what Penn’s father was trying to do, much like other male animals did with their sons: sparring. Nefaria shared her daughter in-law’s smile and both females quickly ushered the kids to their sides while the males continued to fight, Pennywise Sr. maneuvering around his son’s enraged and inaccurate punches and moving towards the front door.

“Down low!” he called from the entryway, and then a loud bang shook the house, giving Hermione the feeling that she might have to fix up the front door in the near future, “Too slow, Junior!”

Their children crowded the window and watched the two males sparring out in the snow. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly at the animalistic custom and retrieved a blood-frosted cookie to give to Nefaria to try. The eldritch nodded at her in thanks, dipping the cookie in her bloody teacup and eating it quietly, “Quite delicious, my dear,” she said a moment later, “I can only imagine what it would taste like with human fear as an ingredient, but I can see why you don’t encourage him to seek young human prey. These little ones are so similar to our prey that it’s… disturbing to me.”

“I think Penn understands that disgust all too well…” Hermione winced when her father-in-law nailed her mate on his head and sent him reeling to the side, “Oww, when will they stop fighting?”

Nefaria chuckled, ruffling her hair, “Worried are you? They’ll be done when one of them is knocked unconscious, of course.”

Hermione winced again, looking at Nefaria and noticing how similar she looked to a decaying French pre-revolutionary noblewoman with her tall hair and beautiful yet desecrated gown. Her behavior added to the illusion, making her wonder if she was some sort of royalty in the eldritch species. Catching her surface thoughts, Nefaria now tittered her louder laugh, “I suppose you could say that… My territory is large and my relatives are many. My sires were very powerful and weren’t happy with my lewd associations with our uhh… court jester, but I satisfied them with my other breedings to other more suitable ‘upper class’ males.”

Hermione giggled at the visual story her mind was concocting, “Why him, why such a… lowborn eldritch.”

Nefaria smiled, “You might know that there aren’t many eldritches in existence, so breeding is everything. We females crave the most beautiful colors and patterns, and when my sires paraded him before me like the sweet little treat he is, I simply couldn’t resist… He was older than me, but he was small, and soft where I was not. He was  _ everything _ I wanted, needed. He didn’t see it at first, but I made sure that he does now. I even  _ bred _ him once to make it sink in, and he gave me Eckles.

“Wait, you’re Eckles’ sire?” Hermione smirked at Nefaria and she grinned, nodding at her daughter-in-law.

“Indeed, and it causes much confusion to my other pups when he calls me ‘sire’ and refers to Pennywise as ‘dam,’ but what can I say? I prefer to bear our clutches, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun and... how do you say? Switch it up?”

Hermione giggled at the idea, “Unfortunately, I’m still human. Otherwise I would actually like to make my Penn experience bearing a child. Maybe then he’d stop hounding me for more of them…”

Nefaria tilted her head and looked at her middle with glowing amber eyes, sniffing her subtly, “You already have a different heat than a human… Perhaps in a century or so, after your bond has overrun your human body, you could manage it.” 

Hermione blushed and turned to watch the rest of the fight, noticing that both males were bleeding a bit and neither looked like they were ready to succumb to unconsciousness, “It was rather satisfying… to watch him lay… Too bad that Loser’s Club was there… He almost died...”

“What?!” Hermione gaped at Nefaria, “Loser’s Club… but they’re just kids, they tried to kill Penn, too, but they didn’t understand what he was...”

Nefaria tilted her head and frowned now, “I assure you that  _ this _ Loser’s Club was a group of mature humans… It’s rather troubling that they inhabit this universe, too…”

Hermione jolted, remembering something her mate said many years ago… something about a... “Macroverse?”

“You know of the Macroverse?” the old eldritch pondered and then nodded, “It’s strange to learn what knowledge comes instinctually, and what my pup simply remembered and held onto for so long…”

Hermione nodded, looking to the window and noticing her children flocking to the door at the sight of their grandfather laying face-down in the snow. Her Pennywise towered triumphantly over his father and she had to shake her head at his smug expression. He bled slightly, clotting red trails rising hypnotically above him and mingling with the snow falling around the two males.

The tall eldritch crouched and received his young’s hugs and kisses, picking Rose and Roman up before walking confidently towards the house. Nefaria tsked, smiling as she went out to pluck her smaller mate from the snowbank he was laying in. Hermione giggled as she lifted him into her arms and carried him in a usual ‘damsel-in-distress’ hold.

“Shall we set him up on the couch?” she inquired when her mate came inside, puffing his chest and looking a bit more lively than before.

“How about Henry’s old room? He’s not needing to stay over this year, is he?” Pennywise tilted his head and she shook her head.

“His apartment isn’t far and I could always pick him up and drop him off.”

“Alright then,” Hermione grinned, plucking Roman off of his father’s painful-looking wounds, “C’mere, sweetheart…”

Roman whined, trying to cling to his father until a certain look from the eldritch made him stop resisting, “Sowwy, Daddy...”

Hermione kissed his little doglike nose before setting him down on the floor. Turning to all her children, the witch raised her voice slightly, “Can you call play nice for a bit? Nana Nefaria has to watch over your grandfather while I have to patch up your Daddy.” Penelope nodded, subtly letting Hermione know that she would keep the others in line. 

“Follow me, Nefaria,” Hermione smiled, taking her mate’s hand and leading his parents up the stairs and into the guest room formerly inhabited by the now twenty-three-year-old Henry Bowers, “This used to be our… adopted pup’s room.”

The older woman nodded, resting Pennywise Sr. on the large bed and running her hands down his face, likely searching for any lasting wounds, “Thank you, Hermione, and good job, my pup. Your sire is strong, but apparently not as he used to be…”

“Do you need anything from us for now?” Hermione prompted, “Feel free to entertain our young if you just want to let him sleep, and I’ll be patching my dear, delicate mate up in the next room over.”

Nefaria grinned at the barb and Pennywise huffed, basically dragging her out of the room and into their own. Magically, he removed their clothes and waited silently for the bathtub to fill. The witch frowned at his behavior, finally noticing that the fight had taken more out of him than she’d previously thought.

“Tired?” she prompted him and he nodded slightly.

“Very…” Pennywise blinked slowly, slowly stepping into the tub and laying back in the water.

Hermione bit her lip in worry, pouring a few healing potions into the water and getting in beside him. She gathered her various sponges and made quick work of cleaning and sealing his cuts and scrapes. His right cheekbone looked a bit purple, so she rubbed a bit of bruising ointment of the discolored area. Luckily, he didn’t have a black eye, otherwise Pennywise would be in a worse mood.

After fully washing and drying her fatigued mate, she took his arm and led him to bed. As though he were nothing but a child, she pulled back the covers and let him slide in. To her mild surprise, he pulled her down to lay beside him. Removing their towels and leaving them both naked under the covers, Pennywise smirked subtly, closing his eyes and resting his head between Hermione’s full breasts, “Can you sleep? For me?” the witch pleaded with her mate and he mumbled something that sounded like an agreement, nuzzling her skin and hugging her close.

Eventually, his breathing evened out and he laid passively against her side, letting all the tension that had been building up over the last few days to finally leave his mind and body. Relieved, Hermione hugged him back, hoping he’d be feeling better after a few hours of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there it is! We have Pennywise's parents, now. It was really fun to explore these two and sort of establish the eldritch species' hierarchy as well as a few dynamics of mating customs, etc.
> 
> Some things might not make sense, of course. This is a Christmas special that's delving pretty close to crack in come places, so don't expect anything too serious. There sort of felt like a bit of OOC-ness here, but I might be wrong? I had to remind myself of what Pennywise remembered about his parents in WL so I could build on it here. So, if it's different than WL, then I apologize.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading my work. This small ship wouldn't be sailing without you readers. :D


	8. Ugly Sweaters, Breakfast, and Misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, these two months have flown by so fast, and so much has happened in that time. I know I've had to change my summer plans a billion times, and now my schooling has been interrupted. However, now is my spring break and so I've been writing. In addition to this Glacius update, I'll also be adding a chapter to my novel draft which is also uploaded on here.
> 
> This one is definitely a doozy and I just want to add a gore disclaimer here because someone eats a live mouse like its a granola bar. Just be warned that when this scene happens, you might want to skip a few paragraphs.
> 
> Also, sorry I'm a bit rusty. It's been a while since I've written for this fic.

**December 22nd, 1995**

Hermione rolled over in bed, unconsciously feeling the light creeping into the room from the crack between their curtains. She sighed, opening her eyes and rubbing them slowly. Pennywise grumbled incoherently beside her, curling away from her movements and preferring to hide under their pillows and blankets. After the day he had previously, the witch didn’t blame him.

Sitting up, Hermione stretched her arms, feeling her bones pop in a rather satisfying way. With a lazy smile, she tip-toed to their closet, reaching into its depths and retrieving a horrific abomination of yarn and patterns. Slipping the loose garment on, she added some dark leggings and red leg warmers on to complete the outfit, doing a little twirl in the mirror and watching as the fabric of her ugly sweater rose and fell around her hips. Her tousled, unbrushed hair fluttered with the movement and bounced against her shoulders.

She looked like a cupcake in such a large article of clothing. It would much better fit her mate, but she knew he’d hate the grotesquely festive designs so lovingly stitched into the chest and sleeves. Red, yellow, and green plaid lined the tips of the sleeves and turtleneck, wrapping around her neck and wrists like soft manacles. It didn’t flatter her figure in any way possible.

When Hermione opened the door, Roman was standing on the other side, his normally amber eyes a watery whisky shade, just like hers. Evidently, he was nervous if the spark of his animal side was absent. She felt her mouth fall open and she quickly ushered her youngest aside and shut the door behind them, hoping that her mate would continue to sleep.

“What’s wrong, little love?” she tilted her head down to look at him and he shuffled his feet back and forth in a sheepish motion before finally lifting his arms towards her, clenching and unclenching his paw-like hands in a non-verbal request to be held.

Smiling reassuringly, she gathered Roman into her arms and let him wrap his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck, “Is Daddy okay?” he whispered hesitantly.

“Of course, Rom-ee,” she giggled at his disdain for the nickname, delighting in the way his little triangular ears tilted backwards and an offended crook appeared on his tilted brows, “Daddy’s sleeping…” she cooed, pressing a kiss to her son’s temple, “Which means we have to be quiet, hmm?” he silently nodded back at her and she scratched him passively behind his ears, making him purr happily, “Is everyone still asleep?”

Roman shook his head, fluffing up his auburn tufts, “Nana is pwaying cards wiff Penny and Hugo. Everybody else is sweeping,” he whispered loudly, his small speech impediment coming through more prominently at the shift in volume.

Hermione winced at her son’s inability to speak in an actual whisper, quickly walking towards the stairs, “Oh? What card game is Nana  _ playing with _ Penny and Hugo?”

“Go Fish,” Roman answered simply, resting his head on his mother’s shoulder and purring when she began brushing his tail with her fingers, “Mummy?”

“Hmm?” Hermione hummed, descending down the steps slowly so as not to make too much noise.

“Can we have fish?” Roman chirped, beginning to mouth at her exposed neck, “I’m hungry, Mummy…”

Hermione giggled, her son’s puppy-like behavior tickling her into setting him down after they reached the bottom of the stairs. Nefaria nodded happily at her, showing off the playing cards in her hand, “Ah, I was wondering where he went… He is a… How do you say it? A ‘Mama’s Boy’?” she tittered, “These little ones taught me a new game. It is quite fun!”

Hugo nodded, a toothy smile stretching across his face, “Yeah, I’m winning!”

Penny pouted, sticking her tongue out at her brother, “Yeah, cus’ I’m not cheating!”

Hermione shook her head at them both, “Ah, ah, ah, remember what your father says,” she crossed her arms.

“A gloater is a floater,” both children mumbled, looking properly chastised.

“That’s right, my little loves,” she smiled at them, “I’m going to go make breakfast, okay? So, you can keep playing with Nana until it’s ready. Maybe after this round you could show her Crazy Eights? You could play that one with everyone later.”

Both children nodded, resuming the game with gusto while Hermione went into the kitchen and started searching for ingredients to make an array of breakfast food for her family. “How does salmon and dill waffles sound to you, sweet boy?” she prompted Roman, who had trailed behind her into the kitchen like a little duckling.

Her youngest hopped onto one of the barstools at the counter, squinting suspiciously at her, “Is salmon a fish?”

Hermione laughed outright now, opening the fridge and grabbing out the fish in question as well as cream cheese, cheddar, eggs, milk, and Greek yogurt, “Of course it is, Roman.”

“Ohh,” Roman expressed his understanding, now relaxed, “Okay, Mummy.”

“Yeah, It’s got all your favorites: cheese, eggs, and milk, too. It will have a different flavor than normal waffles, but I think you’ll like them,” she baited him, knowing how hard it usually was to get her picky eater to try something new.

Roman wagged his tail happily, “Yay!”

Hermione chuckled, grabbing her waffle maker from one of the other cupboards as well as a few other pots and pans for her other morning concoctions that she’d call breakfast food. Securing her apron behind her in a huge bowtie, she set to work, even pulling over a footstool so her son could join her, “Do you want to help Mummy, Roman?”

“Yeah!” he chirped, immediately hopping down from the tall stool and stepping up on the stool, ready to reach for any ingredient at his mother’s request.

Hermione ruffled his hair and he snickered, rubbing his face into her sweater, “Mummy, stop…”

“Oh alright…” she falsely lamented, sounding very put out, “My littlest one is growing up… won’t even let me play with his hair anymore, even after all the hours I spent brushing mine out after letting him play with it… Oh the injustice!” Hermione gasped dramatically, slowly pulling her hand away from her son’s head only for his little paws to grab it and hold it on top of his head like a lifeline.

“No!?” Roman squawked confusedly, unsure what his mother was getting at, but understanding that she thought he didn’t want to be close to her anymore.

“But Ro-mee, Mummy needs both hands to make breakfast,” she knelt down to his level and kissed his scrunched nose, tying a little blue apron around his pajama-covered torso, “and we don’t want your hair in front of your eyes.”

Hermione pressed short kisses to his cheeks and temples and she fixed his chaotic mop of auburn hair so he could see better, “There we go… Now, we have to make these salmon and dill waffles for us, blood pancakes for the eldritches, and regular pancakes for everyone else. Are you up for the challenge?”

Roman stood up straighter on the stool, his little amber eyes sharp and expression serious, “Yeah.”

Hermione laughed, holding her belly with how hilariously adorable her son was being, “I wish I could keep you like this forever, little love…”

★★★

Later, the four adults sat at the kitchen table and watched the half-eldritch children have a snowball fight outside. Hermione stood at the sink, washing syrupy and bloody dishes alike while listening to the ongoing conversation about what Pennywise had missed over the billions of years he’d been apart from his family.

“—and your sister Adrid just got mated to this older male named Aurelio. They haven’t had pups yet, but she was looking a bit round just a few months ago. I do hope their offspring get his facial pattern. It is quite intriguing with its long eye markings and little hearts dotted around the sides. His colors are rather dark though, so perhaps Adrid’s red and blue markings would balance them out…” Nefaria contemplated, stirring her teacup of blood with a single clawed finger.

“Bah, who cares!” Pennywise Sr, huffed, lighting a cigar he pulled from his overalls, “Let them be! There won’t be any pups if you keep bugging them about it. I mean, look at Junior! We didn’t sit back predicting his pups and now we’ve got five of them to spoil rotten,” he took a long drag and puffed it out of the open window next to him.

Nefaria narrowed her eyes at both his passive behavior and the fact that he was smoking, “A matriarch and dam must monitor these things, you know,” she unfurled her fan, pushing the lingering cigar scent back in her mate’s face, “Don’t you feel the same way about the pup  _ you _ bore?”

“Meh, you know Eckles wouldn’t want his mama buggin’ him about that kinda shit…” he took another defiant drag of his cigar, looking away from his mate and eldest son, “Especially with how wound-up he’s been lately…”

Pennywise Jr. felt his chest puff up at the very mention of his younger brother, lingering on his mate’s infatuation with his looks. He glared at his father, crossing his arms and sitting taller in his seat. If he said anything, the conversation would continue to rest on his brother, so he kept silent, looking back to his mate, who was scrubbing at their dishes with practiced swipes of the kitchen sponge. 

Her face was determined, a small twinge in her brow arched up and her lips pursed together to create the expression. A delightful red flush coated her cheeks and chapped lips, making him wonder what she was thinking about that had her biting her abused flesh.

However, he didn’t think about it for too long, instead looking at the garish monstrosity his mate seemed to be using as a sort of contraceptive. The hideous sweater she clothed herself in was something she’d worn the previous Christmas, and he could have sworn that he ripped it to shreds and burned it after cutting it off of her. He’d fucked her so nicely afterwards, telling her to never wear such ugly garments again, and yet, here it was again, stitched back together and more awful-looking than before.

Hermione looked up, catching his eye and winking as he noticed her little outfit. Then, she continued her task, continuing to pay him no mind as she did so. Pennywise simmered, turning back around and resuming his quiet stance in his parents’ conversation.

“Oh, and our little Woe,” Nefaria cooed, “He’s hardly more than a million years old now… I think he’ll be so handsome with his dark red hair and bright blue markings…”

Hermione began drying the dishes, “About how old would that be in human years?” she piped up curiously, wondering how fast her children were aging in comparison to a full eldritch.

“Hmm…” Nefaria considered, “I’m not sure… We can look however age we want soon after birth, and some universes age faster than others, so the Todash can vary a lot depending on where we stay for a while. I think he would be a bit older than your little ones, but not quite an adolescent either… maybe ten human years?”

Hermione tilted her head, “Interesting… So, who is your youngest pup?”

Papawise sat up with a chuckle, “Ah! That’d be Bruise. The kid’s only a few thousand years old and yet he looks like he’s your age, Junior… Gotta say, not much of an eldritch yet, though. He has yet to grow into his markings, much like your little ones.”

Pennywise and Hermione looked at each other confusedly, “So, what  _ does _ he look like?”

Nefaria tutted, “I thought I’d showed him to you, dearie,” she pulled out her album and flipped to another page and pointed at a photo, “That’s Bruise.”

Hermione giggled despite herself, looking at the stoic bright blue-eyed businessman with a stern expression pricking at his dark-haired brows, “He looks like a human,” she smiled at her in-laws and they nodded.

“Yeah, he does…” Nefaria nodded, “Some of us are born with our markings, and others have to wait many millennia to get theirs. Pennywise had his right away while one of our other sons, Guise, has yet to get his and he’s almost through adolescence.”

Pennywise winked proudly at his mate, tracing his red markings with a gloved finger and nearly missing what his mother said next.

“I really do wonder what you’ll grow into, Hermione…” Nefaria tilted her head curiously.

The witch blinked, nearly dropping one of the plates she was drying, “Oh?”

“Hmm…” Pennywise Sr. tapped his fingers underneath his chin, “Yeah, I’ll bet on floating curly hair and cheek marks especially.”

Pennywise Jr. growled and his father tsked at him, “Oh her  _ face _ , Junior.”

Nefaria hushed them both, swatting at her mate with her fan, “We’ll just have to wait a few million years to see for ourselves.”

Hermione nodded, walking over to the three eldritches only to be picked up and set in her mate’s lap. She gasped quietly, sitting primly on Pennywise’s leg while one hand wrapped around her midsection and the other held onto her right hand.

Meanwhile, his parents looked between each other, sharing a look that led to Papawise lowering his head submissively under his mate’s glare.

“We wanted to ask…” Nefaria lowered her fan and looked at the two of them, “Would it be alright if a few of our young came to visit for this  _ Christmas _ … thing?” she waved her hand, “We could find our own accommodations for housing and meals—”

“No,” Pennywise huffed, “If they hunt, they’re hunting  _ my  _ way. Animals and criminals, or They. Can. Starve!”

Hermione growled at him, swatting at his head with her free hand, “Stop being rude, Penn! Your family can come bloody visit you and we will figure something out!” she turned back to Papawise and Nefaria, “You all can stay in the shed out back. I’ll expand it to fit everyone and outfit it with warming charms. It’s really no trouble at all.”

Nefaria beamed at the witch, taking her free hand in hers and patting it gratefully, “You really are too kind, my dear. I shall send for them straight away, she got up from the table and moved to leave the house only to be halted by her son standing in the doorway, “What about their hunting?” he narrowed his eyes at his mother.

Nefaria’s expression went blank and then she was gripping her son’s nape so hard he dropped to his knees before anyone could even blink, “We’ll follow your rules, my pup, but it seems you need a reminder of how to speak to your dam, hmm?”

Pennywise looked to Hermione for help but she only shrugged at him, indicating that she agreed with his mother. Papawise sniggered from the other side of the table, “Ohh, he’s in for it now. It’s about time, right Hermione?”

“Anything to bring down that ego of his,” she replied blithely, sipping her own cup of tea and ignoring her mate’s low whines as his mother breached his mental wards and began harshly chastising him in the confines of his mind, “It’s too bad I can’t hear it…”

“No?” Papawise considered, “Bah, you’re young. By the time you’re my age, you won’t be able to shut off his mind link. Enjoy it while it lasts…”

Hermione winced, leaving the table to dress for going outside. She had a multitude of charms and wards to set up for Pennywise’s siblings when they arrived.

★★★

Later that evening, Hermione was outside arranging a few strings of lights and pots of poinsettias outside of the redecorated gardening shed. Plenty of mattresses, pillows and blankets lined the inside of the space and if it weren’t for the various gardening tools shoved to the back, it would look like the inside of a padded room in a mental institution. From what she knew about eldritch nesting behavior, she figured her mate’s younger siblings would appreciate it. There were also a few mattresses that stood upright to offer a wall-like structure in between areas for young eldritches and those who were mated. All in all, she expected around fifteen of her mate’s siblings to arrive.

Just as Hermione stepped back to admire her work, her boot caught on a hidden tree root and sent her reeling back. Her life nearly flashed before her eyes as the undersides of the tall trees above her entered her vision. However, she felt something catch her just before she hit the ground.

“Ah! Darling, we haven’t even met yet and you’re already falling for me!” a humorous tenor voice chuckled at her from behind and she felt herself slowly being lifted up until she stood upright.

A hand found Hermione’s and spun her around, making her gasp at the male in front of her. A pale glove firmly gripped her own dark-gloved hand, leading her up a dark purple arm and to a green-collared shirt unbuttoned to show off a pale neck. Trailing her gaze upwards, she glimpsed his adam’s apple and clean-shaven chin. Familiar lips and a carbon copy of her mate’s nose confounded her as she continued her analysis in the dim light of the setting sun through the trees. Dark diamonds gave the man a more rugged edge, but the iridescent green eyes in the middle of them were staring back at her with… shock? Slicked back sky blue hair completed the look and she immediately knew who stood in front of her.

“Oh, my darling! You are a vision! The Other surely toiled away at for many millennia to make you so ravishing, even through this rag you drape yourself in,” he huffed offendedly at her ugly sweater, “Is my brother so cruel as to not allow his groundskeeper decent clothing, especially one so lovely as you?” 

His eyes shined with such a passionate emerald glow and his mouth was just shy of an angered snarl that she was speechless once again. They just met and he was acting like they already knew each other.

“Won’t you grace me with your melodic voice? I so long to hear it!”

Hermione blinked for a moment, slowly extracting her hand out of her brother-in-law’s, “Right… I’m Hermione—”

“Ahh, Hermione! Such a beautiful name! It dances across my lips like a fluttering songbird, but don’t you worry, I won’t let it escape my fangs.”

Hermione stepped towards the shed, noticing the bag waiting by the male’s side, “That’s nice… You and the rest of your family will be staying here—”

“Excellent, Darling! Won’t you show me around? This place is so new to me!”

Hermione fought the urge to sprint back to the house and into her mate’s arms but figured it would seem very rude of her to do so. It might prove disastrous to offend one of her in-laws. Nefaria’s stern talking-to on Pennywise had resulted in her mate looming around their bedroom with a dejected and haunted continence. She had no idea what Nefaria said to him, but she almost didn’t want to know. Instead, she let him curl up in their bed and hold her for the better part of an hour before she finally had enough and told him that she had to prepare for when his siblings arrived. However, she didn’t realize they’d start coming that day, let alone a few hours later.

“Well, inside the shed is filled with mattresses, pillows, blankets… any nesting materials, really,” Hermione said offhandedly and Eckles wrapped his arms around her, 

“Thinking ahead… I like it!” the sudden press of his gloved thumb on her lower lip and the rest of his hand tilting her chin up made her freeze. His eyes were all-encompassing, monopolizing her attention. They gleamed like fine gems, so unlike her own mate’s and yet so different, “You are so thoughtful, Darling…” Then, he was dragging her into the shed and shutting the door behind them with a decisive  _ bang _ .

Hermione felt Eckle’s hand leave her own and she watched him wander hesitantly into the space, tensing the mattress’ softnesses with his polished dress shoes, “Oh, Darling, you really have thought of everything…”

That was the only warning she got before he suddenly dove into a pile of the various pillows and blankets stacked around the shed’s extended interior. His coattails swung back and forth as he seemed to be searching for something. Hermione looked away for the moment, not wanting to think about how his dark purple pants hugged his arse in a rather delicious way.

A moment later, he pulled himself out of the crumpled and partially shredded pile of soft things, holding a rather large field mouse by its tail between two gloved fingers. He strode back over to her, almost childishly bouncing on the mattresses on his way back to her. The mouse squeaked indignantly, struggling in his captor’s grip.

“A delightful treat, Darling…” he grasped the mouse in his other hand, immediately silencing its noises. Hermione gaped with wide whisky eyes as his head lunged forward, his teeth sharply clenching around the upper half of the mouth with a squishing  _ snap _ . Blood coated his white gloves and dribbled from his reddened lips onto his pale chin. The remaining half of the mouse dripped bloodily from his hand and onto the mattress below them. He grinned at her, his teeth full of shredded organs and bony slivers, “Care to share, my dear?” He offered the hand full of eviscerated and decapitated rodent to her and she hated the way the blood trail came closer to her, “Don’t think I can’t smell the dormant eldritch blood in you…”

“I’m… No thank you. Please, I insist! You are our guest here…” Hermione breathed, hoping her quick words would save her from consuming something so disgusting.

Eckles shrugged, his smile wilting under her gaze. He finished the mouse without another word, cleaning the blood around them with a snap of his fingers, “It’s a shame you cling so thoroughly to your human upbringing. You could be so radiant and powerful if you changed…”

Hermione winced, turning around to walk away, “You can leave your things in here. I ought to show you the house.”

She moved to walk out into the cold but a steely grip ensnared her hand. Nervous, she slowly turned her head back to the other occupant in the shed and found his expression to be rather stormy. His light brows were drawn so far down and close together that the diamonds around his eyes began to skew into more mutated triangular shapes. His nose and mouth were scrunched in a way that reminded her of her mate’s snarl, but Eckles’ expression held something that held a bit of dumbfounded amazement, “It’s rather rude to walk away from a conversation like you just did, is it not?”

Hermione gaped at her brother-in-law, now slightly fearing for her life, “I-I suppose it was… I-I’m sorry, Eckles...”

“I forgive you, Darling!” Eckles swooned, abruptly pulling her into a crushing hug, “My name sounds so harmonious coming from your lips. I can’t wait to taste them, but I fear I won’t be able to stop myself from taking it further than would be appropriate in my brother’s territory. Don’t you worry though, my dear… After the  _ festivities _ , we shall depart from this place and return to my home… Maybe if we are lucky, my nieces and nephews will have some playmates… I have yet to see my brother or his mate, but I doubt she’s prettier or smells half as good as you… As soon as I hears my sire’s call, I knew I had to come straight away.”

Hermione’s eyes widened further and the remaining breath she had in her body quickly left her scandalized gasp, “W-wait!”

“Shh! You don’t have to say anything,” Eckles promised her with his previously-bloodied finger on her lips, “I promise that I’ll handle everything, including my brother. You deserve more than just a servant’s work, and I will not stand by and let you suffer any longer, not when I’ve been searching so long to find you.”

Hermione whined behind Eckles’ digit, making an abrupt yelp when he gathered her up in his arms and began carrying her in a bridal hold through the snow. Then, she made an embarrassing wheeze when he pressed his unfortunately handsome face into her belly, “So fertile… perfect for bearing young…” he rasped hungrily and Hermione really fought to keep silent, praying her mate would not only help her, but somehow get through to his grossly uninformed, delirious, and possibly psychopathic brother that she was very much mated to his brother and was happy where she was with him and their children.

After a few minutes of walking, Hermione could see the Christmas lights decorating the house and unfortunately caught the glower of a certain someone watching them from the second story, or more specifically, her bedroom.  _ Oh fuck… _

Eckles didn’t even notice, keeping his attention solely on her and muttering what she supposed were meant to be sweet nothings that instead came across as creepy and possessive. The worst of it was that many were things she often heard Pennywise say to her when they were alone. To hear someone else, much less her brother-in-law say such things made her feel  _ very  _ uncomfortable.

They were about twenty feet away from the back door when Pennywise practically broke it down with his sheer weight as he slammed into it, only held back by his parents who were struggling to rein their eldest son back from ripping their second oldest son apart with his bare hands.

Hermione gaped horrifiedly at him, taking in his practically smoking ears and entirely red eyes. His yellowed teeth were on full display behind his wide-mouthed snarl and his black hands were rapidly growing into claws. He was nearly unrecognizable from the sullen and kicked puppy he’d been just a little while ago. Behind him, Nefaria and Pennywise Sr. were holding him back from lunging at his brother and consequently her.

Not wanting to be in the middle of the conflict, she tried to wriggle out of Eckles’ arms but only succeeded in getting him to hold her tighter. Hermione froze again, hating that his hands were now on her arse and under her breasts. Now she was really adding fuel to the fire. 

Nefaria pitched herself forward, throwing her and Pennywise off of the porch and into the snow. Before her son could react, she swiftly expanded in size and ensnared him in her large fists, holding him in front of her and leaving only his head and feet exposed to the cold winter air around them.

Looking down at them, Pennywise snarled and howled at them in an attempt to scare Eckles into dropping her, but when that didn’t work, he yelled, pointing at them with his single free clawed hand.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY FUCKING MATE!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that certainly wasn't the comeback I was expecting. If anyone remembers a certain Groom from a certain video game, then they know exactly who I'm using as inspiration for Eckles' mannerisms and dialogue. I'd originally planned to include Pennmione smut at the end of this chapter, but it just didn't pan out that way on my laptop. I might do an Imperio update to include that, or maybe I'll update this again and have Pennywise hole Hermione up in their bedroom and reclaim her as the beginning of the chapter. I'll let you all vote on that and I'll see what the weekend holds between me moving everything out of my dorm room and transitioning to online schooling.


	9. Little Guards, Two and a Half New Forms, and A Good Ole Fashioned Family Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!
> 
> Write a 3000 word update, I said.   
> It won't take up my entire evening, I said.  
> Well, now you all have almost 8,000 words and I honestly thought I would cover more in this chapter. 
> 
> Let's see... most of it is Pennmione smut, with a little plot and fluff at the beginning and end. I wanted to explore some new Pennywise forms, so I raise you Phantom, Monty, and a humanoid-ish version of his spider form which I have not given a proper name yet. There is a TON of scent marking with semen, so if you're disgusted by that, then don't even bother reading that part. Also, I had to do some research on snake reproduction, so that's also a thing too... Alpha gets some one-on-one with Hermione as well, so there is some borderline (or maybe catapulted across the line) bestiality between them, and Monty, Penn's reptilian/humanoid form. Phantom's only there for a split second, but he's still a humanoid goat demon rubbing his junk on poor Hermione. :/
> 
> Anyway, I hope some of you are still out there and reading my work. This will likely be the last actual fanfic update for a while. I hope to get in a chapter of my novel before my winter class starts, but we'll see. Also, this class I'm doing is an independent study where I look at animated horror films (something quite a bit more PG) and try writing about a third (30 pages) of my own. So, if I like where my first draft is going, I might post it here as well.
> 
> As always, I hope you all are doing well and staying safe. Thank you for reading my work! :D

**December 22nd, 1995**

Hermione stayed perfectly still, discreetly watching her mate hiss and spit more fiercely with each second she remained in her brother-in-law’s arms. Not wanting to draw more attention to herself and make the situation worse, she opted to look at neither brother and instead ignore their possessive words and actions. If she knew anything about eldritches, the males were possessive bastards who couldn’t stand it if their chosen mate even  _ looked _ in the direction of a rival male.

This was a horrible first meeting for all three of them, and it kept getting worse with every minute that passed. She could see Pennywise’s eyes searing into every place where his brother’s fingers were touching her. He growled lowly, the sound almost like a purr, but with a much deadlier undertone, like a death rattle.

“You?!  _ Your  _ mate?” Eckles scoffed at his older brother, ruffling his short icy blue locks at how similar this new eldritch looked to his sire, “That’s not—” he sniffed, smelling Hermione on the other eldritch. A shred of fear and anger entered his previously confident amber gaze. “No! I want…” he snarled, taking a step back from his sire, who was keeping a tight grip on her oldest son, “She’s mine!”

“Eckles,” Nefaria warned, her own eyes flaring red at his behavior, “Set Hermione down,” she ordered.

The blue-haired man shook his head, his white-gloved fingers twitching on Hermione's arse and breasts. A silent snarl parted his lips, revealing bloody yellow fangs. The witch ducked her head, unconsciously hiding her neck from him.

“Now, pup,” the eldritch matriarch snarled lowly, the sound rumbling through both Eckles and Hermione’s bones. It was a low rattle that felt like pure adrenaline being pushed through her veins. The witch gasped at the tremor, but was distracted when Eckles slowly set her down and held their gloved hands together in a death grip.

Nefaria nodded, satisfied with her son’s compliance, and lowered Pennywise to the ground, “Let her go, Eckles… You know our rules.”

The icy eldritch groaned lowly, sounding like a pissed-off cat. Hermione leaned away from him as much as she could, and Eckles noticed immediately, letting go of her hand and using both of his own to forcefully push her to the side so she landed in one of the tall snowbanks.

“Whore!” he snarled at her, his amber eyes turning red. However, he was immediately barreled over by two smaller streaks of red. Eckles snarled once in surprise but the sound turned into a gory wheeze as one of the smaller beings bit through his windpipe. Hot blood spurted onto the snow, the excess liquid falling upwards onto the pine branches above them.

Hermione gasped where she lay in the snow, the wind just barely getting knocked out of her lungs. Her back and legs began to grow cold and wet underneath her, and she knew her hair would freeze if she didn’t try to get the white flakes out of it soon. Thankfully, she couldn’t feel anything broken. It seemed to be more of the shock of hitting the ground than anything else.

Dazed, she sat up and looked to Nefaria, who still held onto an enraged Pennywise. He’d begun clawing at his mother’s hand, leaving angry scratches on her fingers. Her blood floated upwards as well, latching onto the frozen leaves and branches of the tall trees around them. The matriarch didn’t seem to react much at all, looking down at her eldest with an exasperated, if not pained, frown. She tsked at him, rubbing her large thumbs into his shoulder blades in an effort to calm him down.

“Be still, my pup… your mate is still yours. Your little ones are making sure of that… such dutiful boys… You’ve raised them well, Pennywise.”

Confused, Hermione looked back to Eckles and realized who had begun attacking him.

“Robert! Roman!” Hermione yelled, watching as her more feral sons punched, kicked, and bit at their snarling uncle. Blood covered the lower halves of their faces as they made quick work of Eckle’s throat and clawed fingers, “Get over here and leave him alone! Now! Goodness knows where he’s  _ been _ ...”

Robert groaned nervously at his mother’s shriek, ducking his head and trying to appear smaller as he abandoned his task and approached her. Roman followed suit, letting out a high-pitched whine and padding over to her in his wolf form. The older boy reached around her with bloody arms, enveloping her in a hug and rubbing his bloodier face into her soft breasts. Roman did the same despite his differing anatomy, his stained muzzle resting against her thighs.

“Y-you’re both filthy,” Hermione said and then winced, realizing how uneven her priorities were that she was focusing on her sons’ appearances while there was an angry twitching eldritch bleeding out in the snow nearby, “Are you both alright?”

“Yes, Mum…” the older boy smiled, momentarily tightening their hug, “We saved you!”

The witch didn’t know what to say to that besides, “Yeah?”

Hermione reached for Robert’s face, checking for scratches and struggling to see any underneath the blood. Before she could grab her wand to get rid of the blood, she was suddenly crushed to a solid and achingly familiar chest. Comforting smells of buttered popcorn and caramel flooded her nose and she felt an immediate sense of calmness seeping into her jilted nervous system. She could feel her mate’s own nose push through her messy curls to make sure she still smelled of him. His resounding purr confirmed that he was happy with her resistance of Eckles’s behavior.

“Oh, Penn… I...” Hermione sighed, moving her arms to clutch at his shoulders.

“Shh…” he silenced her with a satisfied purr, “Soon, Doll.”

Pennywise’s long arms reached around her and pulled Robert closer to him. Turning her head, Hermione watched the boy close his eyes while his father’s long tongue came out to clean him of his bloody mess. Meanwhile, he purred his gratitude and pride to his now giggling son, continuing to groom him until every last speck of blood was gone from the five-year-old’s pale skin and fiery hair. 

“Did I do good, Daddy?” the boy chirped, a sharp-toothed grin nearly dividing his face in two.

“The best, Junior. Mummy is still ours,” Pennywise promised, massaging his son’s scruff for a moment before nudging him off toward the house, “Now go on… it’s nearly time for pups to go to bed…”

“Aww…” Robert whined, his blue eyes turning amber in irritation, “But I helped!” 

“No ‘buts!’” Pennywise snarled, more anger emerging from his voice than he would have preferred. Robert whined and ducked his head in deference to his father’s authority. Meanwhile, Roman twitched in his mother’s lap while Hermione turned and swatted the back of her mate’s head, only for the older eldritch to growl at her with a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs less than an inch from her nose.

Then, to her surprise, the older eldritch groaned lowly, shocks of red fur beginning to sprout from his skin and clothes. Bones cracked and morphed into more canine features, and after a moment, Alpha had fully taken over the eldritch’s personality. After rumbling a quick order that sent Robert walking toward the house, his large furry head turned to Hermione.

“Alpha… Y-you’re back,” the nervous witch reached up with shaking hands to massage the werewolf’s shoulders in a way she knew he liked.

Alpha purred at the gesture, licking one slow drawl up her chin, into her mouth, and under her nose, “Yes, Bitch… We are calming from our dominance spike… You must be patient, and receptive, to us. Pups challenging us can make us angry… We apologize…”

Roman whined quietly, reminding his parents that he was still present. Alpha tilted his head down and purred comfortingly, gathering the little one up in his fuzzy and buff arms. He purred his own fatherly approval to Roman, wagging his tail and cleaning the pup in the same way Pennywise did with Robert.

_ I went for the ankles, just like you said, Papa, _ Roman recounted to his father,  _ Robbie got his throat _ …

_ Good pup,  _ Alpha licked a similar slow drag up his son’s face, ruffling the short tufts on his forehead,  _ I am proud of you, Romulus… You will make a fierce eldritch one day. _

Roman yipped happily, wagging his tail so fast that Hermione was worried it would either fall off or begin to lift the elated little pup off the ground _ , Really, Papa? _

_ Yes, my son… _ Alpha purred, abruptly standing up with Hermione in his arms and Roman in her lap. The witch grabbed onto her son so he wouldn’t fall and the pup was all too happy to cuddle up with his mother now that he knew all was well with her and Pennywise.

The trio looked to Eckles, who was slowly sitting up and clutching at his bloody throat. His eyes were a boiling red glare and his mouth was set in an unattractive snarl. He couldn’t speak, not until he healed enough to not choke on his own blood.

Nefaria frowned, picking up her son with both hands and standing up straight. Then, to everyone else’s surprise, the ancient eldritch’s torso ripped her dress open from the inside out, revealing a vertical mouth similar to Pennywise’s. Its large sharp teeth parted, revealing the pink and red insides of her abdomen. Her deadlights came down to peek at the commotion happening to their body, slowly floating at the top of the fissure. Eckles angrily gurgled at the sight, trying to weakly wrestle his way out of his sire’s white-gloved hands.

“Enough, pup!” the matriarch roared in at least three distinct tones, “Be grateful you don’t have to share the space with another. You will remain inside to heal, and then to repent. Your disobedience must be punished…”

Nefaria pushed her second-born’s arms and legs together, crumpling the more youthful eldritch into a ball and shoving him into the open maw. Eckles continued to fight, even punching at the seam after the secondary mouth closed. She laughed, rubbing her now distended belly and looking to her mate, who had been standing back with the rest of Hermione and Pennywise’s children, “It’s just like being bred again,” she winced, “But I must say… if he was anything like this inside you, then your womb must be the strongest in the macroverse. You were hardly vocal during your first breeding.”

Pennywise Sr. winced, “Great that you’re starting to understand what ya put me through, but this isn’t really the time. Eckles has always been hard to please— Junior?”

Alpha had immediately begun walking away after he saw his dam cage Eckles in her womb, knowing that she wouldn’t be letting him out anytime soon. His possessive and protective side needed reassuring and he wasn’t likely to have the time to satisfy his urges later if more of his siblings were going to be arriving, so he glared back at his parents and pointedly indicated to the children watching them in the doorway, “I must renew bond with mate, leave us and watch over pups until I fetch them,” the werewolf huffed, plucking Roman out of his mate’s lap and depositing him in Rose’s arms as he passed his young on his way to their bedroom.

“Of course, my pup,” Nefaria nodded and Pennywise Sr. grimaced before copying her nod.

★★★

As soon as Alpha and Hermione entered their bedroom, he all but barred the door and dragged her into their bathroom. Pushing her toward the jacuzzi, he ripped off her ugly Christmas sweater for a second time and teleported it into their fireplace so she would never be able to wear it again. Even with how ugly it was, his brother had saturated it in his scent, which was even more unforgivable on his mate. The rest of their clothes were gone with a single snap of his fingers.

Hermione gasped, abruptly feeling nothing on her body. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh and her nipples hardened into small, pink peaks in a matter of moments. She bent over to reach the tap and turn on the warm water, but was immediately pushed against the side of the tub with no room to stand up straight again. Calloused and rough finger pads explored her front, one paw-like hand moving down to her pelvis and the other moving up to her nipples. The stark contrast between his rough skin and her soft and sensitive skin was deliciously pleasing.

_ Cold, Bitch? _ The wolf huffed eagerly, fingers plucking at her shaved folds.  _ We can fix that... _

Cold claws brushed her little nubs, the smooth flat sides acting as a balm after his paw pads were through with her. Hermione shivered and Alpha was quick to crowd her further against the jacuzzi which was slowly heating up with warm water. The movement caused the witch to spread her legs wider and bend over further. 

Alpha uncharacteristically mewled lowly at the feeling of his mate’s soft bum pressing against his sheath. He humped once, feeling the skin beginning to part for his wolfhood to emerge. Groaning, he humped her thrice more, each being harder than the last. Hermione moaned, her own hand sneaking down to rapidly rub at her clit.

Alpha immediately noticed and grabbed her guilty hand before picking her up and lowering her into the warm water. Hermione spluttered, getting drenched up to her shoulders. Heat enveloped her tense form, rapidly softening and relaxing her muscles. She got onto her knees, now perfectly level with her mate’s crouched stature. A predatory glint entered his yellow eyes and he was quick to drag the side of a crooked finger under her chin so she looked up at him.

Sometimes she forgot how sexy Alpha actually was. Most of the time, he was like a dog: all warm cuddles and playfulness, especially around their young. However, during their more intimate moments… he was a whole other animal. 

Even now, she could see the prominent ab and chest muscles hiding under a light dusting of red hair. His pectorals weren’t bulging, but she wouldn’t forget about how toned they were, and his furry limbs were much too dense to simply be a ton of fur. It felt like every muscle and fiber of his being had been worked to the bone until it looked like it had been carved from marble and then covered in red fur. 

Looking up further, she took in Alpha’s wolfish head and caught his wide-mouthed smirk, realizing that she’d been caught oogling. His ears cocked outwards with pleasure as he came closer to her kneeling form. Hermione blushed and looked down to the hefty sacs dangling from his pelvis. However, what quickly caught her attention was a nub of red, the top of his cock, emerging from his sheath.

_ Lick, _ Alpha ordered,  _ I’ll not have your mouth smell of the rogue one. _

Hermione nodded, remembering how Eckles touched her lips to keep her quiet. Bringing her arms up, she grabbed her mate’s arse and pulled his awaiting sheath to her mouth. His tail wagged eagerly, brushing ticklishly against her hands. She giggled, pressing her mouth against the tip of his hidden cock and attacking the slit with rapid kitten licks before beginning to fully suck. Her tongue fluttered against the slit and circled around it every few seconds. All the while, her mate’s member grew and grew out of hiding.

It tasted of salt, rain, and the fresh brown earth after a storm. The flavor reminded her of the woods, of those chilly spring days where it rained more often than not and the grass was the greenest it ever would be until another year passed. She was brought home to her childhood when John and Jean Granger took her to the Forest of Dean.

_ Yes, Bitch… _ Alpha crooned, breaking her out of her thoughts. By now, his red, tapered wolf cock had fully emerged and was well into her throat. His witch could still breathe, but just barely. While he normally would have continued to let her lick and suck him off, he had other plans tonight. 

He yanked her off his cock, the last of it slipping out of her shocked lips with a slick  _ pop _ . Hermione sagged against the tub’s edge, the rapid water jets hitting her sensitive nipples rather than her abdomen. She moaned, melting in her mate’s hands as Alpha’s paws came around to rub her shoulders. Understanding what he wanted to do, she grabbed her preferred soap and began washing where she could reach. The wolf got into the tub behind her and pulled her onto his lap. His erect dick sat snugly between her nether lips, reminding her of the archaic muggle depiction of witches riding brooms as a metaphor for riding the Devil’s cock. Now, remembering who she was and who she was with, she couldn’t help but think about how accurate it was.

The eldritch chuckled, sensing her thoughts. He shifted until his paws became hooves, his tail became long with a barb on the end, hulking bat wings sprouted from his back, and his head resembled that of a goat’s, complete with four horns. His horizontal pupils gaped widely at the sighed of his awed mate. A low bray left his mouth and he pointedly slid his cock back and forth through her folds.

Phantom was a rare form for the eldritch to take. Hermione had seen him a few times, but the context had never been so intimate or close. From what she understood, his satanic appearance often put the pedophilic clergymen in their place before they were promptly devoured.

“How does it feel to ride this sinful beast?” Phantom taunted in a baritone voice.

Hermione moaned and yelped, accidentally moving just enough for his swollen cock to slide back inside her, “So good… so bloody good...” she whined.

“Naughty, naughty, little doe… I ought to put a faun in you for that,” the eldritch teased, darkly chuckling at Hermione’s nervous gasp. Her heart sped up and he didn’t think either of them could fully say whether or not the idea excited her, or made her anxious. 

“No?” he stood and shifted again, his entire body turning orange and scaly. Red splotches with black outlines appeared on his skin and his eyes turned completely black with a hint of amber irises hiding underneath. The eldritch parted his lips into a wide smirk, revealing lengthy fangs. Just as before, he dragged the crook of his finger underneath her chin, but grasped the bottom of her jaw between two fingers and guided her head closer to his pelvis once more.

To her surprise, there were now two long and girthy cocks in front of her. It was such a difference from what she was used to that it took her a moment to remember that male snakes actually have two penises, or hemipenes. This fact brought around a multitude of jokes and taunts towards Slytherins at Hogwarts, and while she’d never made any jokes herself, some of the ones she’d heard had been enough to have her more than a little hot under her uniform.

Now, as she considered her mate’s new form, she was almost sad she hadn’t written any of them down, as they would have come in handy during moments like these where he rendered her speechless. The eldritch snickered a low hissing laughter, crouching back into the warm water and pulling her heavily-breathing body closer.

“Hi, I’m Hermione…” the witch rubbed herself along his scales, delighting in the bumpy texture rubbing her clit hard enough to make her eyes roll, “What’s your name?”

The reptilian man grinned wider, rubbing their faces together. A delighted hissing escaped his slack mouth and he trailed his vibrating tongue along her ear. The ticklish sensation made her giggle and accidentally hump along his twin cocks. He groaned, pressing little kisses and nudges along her jawline and neck. Afterwards, he kissed her mouth with a slow but persistent tongue. He let his tongue linger on her teeth and tongue during their kiss, but was quick to make little strikes at her lips. His fangs left the flesh slightly swollen, but the aphrodisiac venom he was using on her made the experience much more enjoyable to them both. Within seconds, Hermione could feel her heart rate accelerate even more, and her pussy felt like it was on fire. 

“Why don’t you name me, precccccious one?” the serpentine eldritch prompted, inhumanly curling his body around her and latching onto her left nipple. He suckled lazily, his tongue frequently lolling out to drown him in her milky scent.

Hermione smiled lazily, supporting his head with sluggish arms, “Monty…” she moaned dazedly, remembering the beloved British TV show she grew up watching as a young girl.  _ There was also a type of snake in the title, too, right? _

The snake man chuckled now, detaching from her drained teat and dragging his tongue promisingly over her other nipple, “Exquisssssssite…” He curled around her further, his spine elongating and dividing rapidly to that of a snake’s, “I’ve sssseemed to have caught a fine female…”

“Oh!~” Hermione moaned when he simply tightened his coil around her, “What are you going to do now that you have me?”

Monty’s grin was absolutely feral when he nodded his head toward his crotch, motioning for her to follow his gaze, “Look down, ssssweet meat…”

Hermione huffed eagerly, looking at the two hemipenes and marveling at the small red tendril-like branches unfurling from the heads of both cocks. Thankfully this wasn’t a cat form who had multiple painful barbs. Instead, these almost looked torturous, but in a deliciously sinful way.

“Did you know sssssnakes have two cocks so they can pleasssse  _ two _ matessss in quick sucessssssion?” Monty teased, plucking at both her clit and her nipples.

Hermione gaped, turning to face her mate, “Don’t! I wasn’t—”

“Hushhhh, mousssse…” he crooned in his rasping voice, biting on the opposite shoulder from her mating scar to calm her down and make her more receptive, “Thissss is a reward, not a punishhhhhment. You will have both of my cocksssss tonight. One will ssssspill inssssside your bare womb, and the other will aid me in erasssssing your sssssscent and covering it with mine.”

Hermione nodded, pressing her face into his pelvis. His cocks twitched, brushing against her face and leaving twin streaks of inky cum on her face. Monty groaned at the sight, purposefully rubbing his penises onto her face enough to get a significant burst of pre right onto her cheeks. Scaly fingers dutifully rubbed the spunk into her skin and his tongue vibrated along her skin, delighting in the lack of his brother’s scent.

“Pick your favorite, precioussss one,” he crooned, “Which one ssssshall breed you?”

Hermione whined, feeling her clit become more sensitive and needy, enough that she actually had to shut her eyes to avoid cumming from his words and proximity alone. She blindly reached down and grabbed a hold of one of her mate’s cool hemipenes, nearly dropping it when the clammy appendage squirmed in her hand like a baby squid, its tentacle branches sticking and unsticking to her hand in a similar way.

“Yessss, Hermione,” Monty praised, grabbing her hand and helping her jerk him off for a few thrusts, “Prepare me…” He shut off the water and abruptly moved Hermione so her clit was directly in front of one of the jacuzzi’s water jets. The witch cursed and cried out loudly in a way that made him chuckle, “Feelssss good?”

“Yeah~” Hermione moaned in a high pitched whine, her hands grasping behind for her mate’s shoulders.

“Take it, mousssse…” Monty bit her on the shoulder, adding more aphrodisiacs to her blood, “Love me… acccccept me… be  _ my  _ beautiful female…”

“Ohh~” Hermione moaned, hands now scrambling to turn of the jets and begin to drain the tub. The stimulation on her clit alone was going to make her cum very quickly, and she’d rather do it while a cock was inside her, “Monty, I’m gonna c—”

“Hmh!” Monty huffed, quickly flipping her over and grinding thrice on her bum, “Not yet, my ssssweet…”

“Please, please, plea-AH!” Hermione pleaded, cutting herself off to scream when not one, but both slippery cocks entered her lower holes. The water around them, and his initial slickness, helped him ease his way inside both her arse and her snatch. They filled her up so well, rubbing against each other through her tight walls and reaching all of her pleasure spots in just a few thrusts. His tentacle branches licked along the opening to her cervix and lower intestine, threatening to push thorough and inseminate her womb and intestinal tract.

The draining water was down to her swollen middle, her nipples pebbling from the chilled droplets on her skin. Monty offered little warmth, his deadlights giving the dedicated illusion of a cold-blooded reptile. Still, he tried to warm her up by sucking on her other breast. Bucking his hips, he roughly pushed Hermione against the side of the tub to get some more friction to warm her. More bites were left on her chest and abdomen, each one bringing her slightly more closer to her orgasm as it attempted to peak for a third time.

“Monty!” Hermione cried out, “Please let me cum, please, please, please!”

The reptilian man pressed an uncharacteristically calm kiss to her pulse, “Can I breed you?” he rasped, thinking of springtime, of their young hatching with the help of their egg teeth slicing into the delicate shells, emerging with a cluster of red, brown, orange, and black scales. They’d be so cute, flourishing into beautiful and deadly nagas and animagi if they didn’t inherit his shape-shifting abilities.

“Yeah~” Hermione spoke without thinking about it.

“You want my clutch? My ssssseed for little eggsssss?”

“Oh~... Yeah~” she whined, her eyes foggy and blissed-out.

“Don’t worry, my ssssweet. I’ll be ssssure to give you enough to fertilizzzze them,” he slowly trailed a scaly hand down, rubbing the bulge where his cocks were making an impression, “Would you want Phantom’ssss faun?”

Hermione whined, thinking of the satyr-like demon fucking into her, becoming round with their tiny faun, bearing a little one with clopping hooves, pudgy arms, and droopy goat ears. They’d be so cute!

“Or Ram’ssss kittenssss? Or more of Alpha’ssss pupssss? Pennywisssse and Bill’ssss kidssss?”

Hermione moaned with every name and persona her mate went by. Each had their own likes, dislikes, behaviors, and personalities. However, the one big thing they all had in common was their love for her, and their urge to get her pregnant again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever, but she’d been able to deflect his last attempts for the last few years, since Roman was born, so she knew she couldn’t stop now.

On the other hand, since she wasn’t in heat, Hermione figured she could indulge the eldritch currently fucking into her from behind. He was the best dirty-talker she knew, and Merlin could he get her in the mood to get pregnant… Even when she wasn’t high on aphrodisiac venom, he could nearly persuade her to cave on her “vacant womb” stance.

“Yes, yes, yes! I want _ allllll _ of your babies!~” She cried out, reaching around to grab his arse and pull him forwards into thrusting faster. The witch writhed and twitched, bucking back and forth to the rhythm she wanted while Monty struggled to bring her back down to a lazier pace.

“All of them? Even  _ His _ ?” Monty teased, easing her into his lap now that most of the water was gone, “You want His ovipositor cock thrussssting… claiming… breeding you? You want His clutch in you? You want to lay the eggssss and watch them for monthssss? You want them to emerge from their cocoon, eight legssss and all? Crawling, sssskittering, and climbing whatever they can to get to you and your ambrossssial milk?”

“I…” Hermione faltered, her rational mind becoming gradually unsure about his description and her love-sick brain slowing her down. Monty kissed her, his scenting tongue bumping on her teeth and gums.

“I think you would,” he noted with a sharp grin, “Because they would be cute!” the serpent thrust his hips to accentuate his words, “Fuzzy. Sssshape-sssshifting. Eldritch. Pupssss who could take human form assss ssssoon as they are able to understand how to do it. You are not your interfering sssschool friend, sssso you would not fear them.”

“Mmm~” Hermione cried out through pursed lips, rapidly nodding at her mate’s words, “Monty please let me cum!”

The snake man paused and considered her request. The lack of thrusting made her whine loudly, pulling harshly at his arse and shoulders, “A minute more, my sssweet…” he rasped, picking her up while she was still attached to his cock.

Hermione whined at the handling, but didn’t complain much more as she was carried out of the bathroom, still dripping wet, and deposited on a suddenly-present floor cushion. On her knees, she groaned as the eldritch wrapped himself around her like a constrictor. He purred, vibrating her entire diaphragm and pressing the tip of his snake tail to her clit. With a single harsh buzz from his tip, Hermione was crying out, tears falling from her watery eyes at the sudden release of combined frustration and satisfaction. Her climax hit her like a freight train, making her collapse in Monty’s coils and promptly see stars.

“That’s it,  _ my precioussss one… _ Milk me, let me breed your womb, our clutch will be beautiful…” he praised and pleaded, rubbing Hermione’s belly before pulling his other cock out of her arse. He felt so close to bursting and he knew there would be no issue with what he was about to do. Receding back into his deadlights, he allowed “the Nameless One” to transform his serpentine cock into something much more arachnid.

Hermione clenched her walls in four quick pulses, yanking him into a swift and fulfilling orgasm. He growled, the rattled hiss coming out as something entirely inhuman and unearthly. It was a much more primal sound than he ever thought he was capable of making. He hoped his foolish brother, as well as the rest of his family, could hear it and fear him, never even daring to so much as  _ think _ about taking his mate from him.

Inky, dark seeds flooded Hermione’s womb. It splashed and gushed through her walls and into her cervical opening. Her belly swelled up, and she knew it would be sloshing around for  _ days _ if she let it remain. However, what surprised her the most was the sudden spray of seed on her back. It felt like a hose in comparison, covering everything from her shoulders, down to her exposed bum, in thick tar-like semen, “Monty? Pennywise!? Who—!?” she squawked, turning her head and catching the sight of eight rather large eyes taking up the upper half of her mate’s head. Stopping herself, she looked into the eyes of her mate’s true form, or at least the part she could fully understand as a human.

The eldritch smirked, the formerly serpentine quirk to his mouth was now more structured to mandibles and painful pincers. Then, her hair and face was drenched in even more of the creature’s spunk, “Pth-Pth! Hey?!” the witch spluttered, “Bloody loathsome sod! You got that in my eyes! And up my nose!”

The eldritch’s smirk widened as his now fuzzy pedipalp-like fingers reached for her to rub his seed into her skin.  _ Every part of you deserves to be claimed, my sweet mate _ , he chittered in his eldritch tongue, making Hermione scowl even more.

“Ugh! You know I can’t understand any of that, righ—!” she whined, trying to get her eyesight back without getting more seed in unfavorable places but instead getting a spurt of cum right on her tongue. It actually tasted good, not that she would admit that or thank him at this moment in time, like berries and sweet candy with just a little bit of salt and something that reminded her of the dew and fresh green earth after a thunderstorm, new life.

Obediently, she swallowed the seed, feeling another long spurt down her front now that she kneeled facing him. Blind, she tried to feel for her mate’s arms, but was unable to find them until she suddenly felt six of them on her body, “Oh!” Hermione jumped, only to hear a chittering laughter from in front of her.

Pouting, she crossed her arms, letting the spidery hands roam, “Hey, to go from two to six hands on your body at once is a bit shocking, especially when I had two hands on me earlier that I didn’t want there,” she scowled but lightened up a bit at her mate’s possessive trill and apologetic whine. He rubbed her body slowly, efficiently pushing his soft seed into every crevice he could reach. With the exception of her inner ears, eyes, and nose, he shoved it everywhere he could stick his fingers and/or cock.

After what felt like an hour, the hands left and a warm wet cloth on her eyes allowed them to open. A naked Pennywise smiled shyly at her and waved, making her giggle at the visual. She moved to embrace him, but he shook his head and laid her back down onto the surprisingly dry cushion. Looking up and around, Hermione realized that there was nothing out of place, no stray droplets of her mate’s semen anywhere other than inside her.

Something hard and blunt spread open her snatch, making her jolt in surprise. Looking down, she saw the clown’s white-gloved fingers inserting a sizable plug into her hole, “Penn? What—?”

“ _ They _ insisted,” he cut her off with a hand held up placatingly, “Until my sires and my siblings leave,  _ we _ would like you to wear this, and keep our seed inside you… It will make others less likely to try to take you, that and my bites, of course,” Pennywise indicated to the numerous bloody bites on her skin.

Hermione curled in on herself, nodding silently. Pennywise pressed a kiss to her temple, picking her up and bringing her over to their bed, “You may bathe tomorrow, but for now, we must let my scent really sink in.”

Hermione kissed him back, crawling into their bed and feeling the sudden constriction of pajamas shorts and a tee on her body, she looked back to her mate, only to see him walking toward the door. Pennywise, sensing her questioning gaze, smiled and looked back, “While I wouldn’t dream of you wearing anything in our bed, I doubt our young would feel the same way. Roman is still young, he might try to feed if he has entirely unrestricted access.”

Hermione nodded, “Right, yes… I’ll make room, shall I?”

After a few flicks of her wand, their already sizeable bed was spread nearly wall-to wall, with plenty of room for two adults and six little ones. She laid down close to the door, knowing that her mate would want to lay closest to the entrance and she next to him with their young laying between them and the wall. Closing her eyes, she waited until she heard the tell-tale padding of tiny footsteps on the floor. 

Penelope came first. Clad in red pajamas and clutching her favorite pillow, she rushed over to her mother and wordlessly grasped for her hands. Her smooth little fingers quickly found where her uncle had grabbed her mother, seeing the skin already beginning to bruise. Her large blue eyes began to water and Hermione fretted over her, immediately sitting up and hugging her.

“Mummy’s alright, little love. Uncle Eckles just got confused and scared. I’ll be fine in a few days, you’ll see,” Hermione promised, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. Penelope nodded and laid down nearby, likely leaving room for her youngest brother.

“Okay, Mummy…” she closed her eyes, and settled in for sleep.

Rose hesitantly peeked around the door next, quickly followed by Hugo. Both brunettes looked like they’d already laid down judging by their droopy eyes and bedheads. Hermione couldn’t help but softly chuckle at their unfocused footsteps as they carried their own pillows and set them down next to Penelope before coming over to Hermione to kiss her goodnight.

“Oh!” Rose’s eyes widened and it took Hermione to realize that her daughter had noticed her mate’s more painful display of affection, “Something bit you, Mummy!” She immediately covered her hands with her mouth before running around the room to calm down. Hugo frowned and clinically, if a five-year-old’s poking could even be considered that, probed the secondary bite on her neck.

“Did Daddy bite you?” Hugo tilted his head in consideration and confusion.

“He did,” Hermione nodded.

“Why? You and Daddy both said we shouldn’t bite other people. Robbie and Roman forget but I don’t,” he frowned, throwing his arms around her.

“Hugo… Your Uncle Eckles tried to marry— I mean,  _ mate _ me today. He was going to take me away from you and Daddy. So, Daddy had to bite me so that he would see that he couldn’t take me away because I’m his mate, and that you’re all my little ones,” she tried to explain the situation as best as she could in a way that he might understand.

“Ohh…” Hugo pondered her words, “Is Daddy going to bite us, too?”

“No, sweetie,” Hermione giggled, ruffling his hair, “Now, I do believe it is time for little loves to go to bed. You too, Rosie…”

Rose dashed over and Hermione pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, “I’m glad you’re alright, Mummy,” she whispered, crawling between her siblings and resting her head on her pillow. No sooner did she do this before Tom strode purposefully into the room wearing his silky green pajamas and carrying his pillow. He scanned her body and expression for anything that showed that his mother might be in pain. Penelope turned and opened her eyes, telepathically recapping what she’d heard so their exhausted mother wouldn’t have to repeat herself.

“I’m fine, love,” Hermione promised, “Daddy took care of me,” she patted his cheeks, pressing a kiss to his nose to make him smile. After he graced her with a shy one, she ushered him to lay down next to Hugo.

Robert’s entrance actually made her laugh. He took one step into the room and immediately fell to his knees with his hands covering his nose. Pennywise nearly tripped over him, carrying a sleeping Roman in his arms. He shut the door and stepped over his prone son to lay his youngest down next to his mother. The pup twitched once in his sleep, but otherwise remained undisturbed.

The eldritch pup groaned, pressing his face into his own pillow to keep the sensory overload from overwhelming him. Pennywise rolled his eyes, walking over and picking up the boy from the floor. He was all but tossed next to Tom, as Hermione sat up to comfort him. Pennywise helped her lay back down and telepathically pushed them all closer to the middle of the bed.

“What’s wrong, Robert?” Hermione tried to reach him over her other children, but couldn’t quite do so without disturbing them.

The pup shook his head, whining quietly, “Stinky…” he whispered.

Pennywise sent his son a half-hearted glare, indicating for the coddled pup to shut up and go to sleep. Robert gulped, cuddling up to Tom and scenting him to fall asleep. Meanwhile, Hermione frowned, feeling a bit embarrassed now that she knew how another eldritch was likely to react to what Pennywise did to her.

“Mum?” Roman blinked confusedly up at her, pawing at her face, shoulders, and chest to both see if she was actually there, and to discern if it actually was  _ her _ . 

“Yes, Rom-ee?” Hermione rubbed the pup’s front paw pads with her thumbs, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The pup whined.

“Why do you smell like Daddy? I don’t smell you at all…” he pouted, leaving Hermione speechless.

Pennywise smirked against her nape despite how much he felt a bit guilty of depriving his more eldritch pups of their mother’s scent, “Good,” he whispered. His brother would surely vomit if he came within six feet of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked this chapter. I'm curious to hear your thoughts. My apologies if it seems disjointed from the rest of the story. I did take about nine months off before working on it again, so that's probably why it might seem odd. When I get around to writing the next chapter, I will be introducing many of the siblings that were mentioned in previous chapters. Specifically Adrid and her mate (Aurelio), Woe, Bruise, Harpo, Pierrot, and Petalrina.


End file.
